Morphine
by IlUvSkitTLes
Summary: "Will you stop flirting with me, I'm your EMT, I'm trying to save your life, I don't care if my eyes match the color of your purse" -COMPLETE-
1. Chapter 1

**Prompt: "Will you stop flirting with me, I'm your EMT, I'm trying to save your life, I don't care if my green eyes match the color of your purse."**

 **A/N: I have over 11,000 words to this one shot and it still doesn't feel finished, but I was so anxious to just get it out there my brain wouldn't let me sleep. After three sleepless nights, I've decided I'm gonna break it up into 3-4 chapters most likely.**

 **Also this was meant to be fluffy, but when are my stories ever fluffy without a little bit of drama and tension? The High Five are 24-25 in this alternative universe.**

 **Enjoy! Review and Favorite, lemme know if you like it xx **

**(*)**

"On a scale of one to ten, how excited are you for tomorrow?"

A small smile spreads across Maya's face as she glances around the studio room. She had three different art pieces being shown at the opening tomorrow and she was just...there wasn't a word to describe rocking on the balls of her feet, her fingers tingling, mind in the clouds.

Relieved. She feels relieved. She dropped everything, her family, her friends, her life for the smallest bit of hope that she could succeed here. Mind you, it was only a mere two hours away from home and she was still in the busy city of New York, but she never liked change. She grew up with the corrupt thought of being a mediocre house wife and that was all she was gonna be.

Her eyes fall over her latest painting, running a hand along it.

She was happy and that was one trait that didn't come easy for Maya Hart. There was something about the satisfaction of proving everyone wrong that made her feel all warm inside. She finally made something of the skill she knew like the back of her hand, a pathway that rarely leads to success unless you croak first. Or cut your ear off. Neither of which sounded like a good time in her defense. She worked her ass off and spilled her blood, sweat and tears to reach this very moment.

"Nineteen. Nineteen out of ten." She responds, gripping the phone between her cheek and shoulder to fish her keys from her purse. She had to sneak in to look at her art one more time, hung on the walls. Just to imprint the image in her mind, just so she knows it's real and that something good came out of her shitty life.

Riley chuckled on the other end. "God, Maya, you have no idea how proud everyone is down here. I showed them the picture you sent me in front of the studio and Dad started crying. I was painfully present to witness Josh trying to comfort him with a pat on the head."

Maya snorts, pulling the keys from her purse. She would give an arm and a leg to see that, she hasn't seen the Matthew's in over three months trying to meet the deadline for the opening. Turning around to soak in the scene in front of her one last time, a ghost of a smile creeps onto her face. "Yeah, I miss you guys. I'm coming down next weekend," She mumbles, "Apparently Shawn proposed and my mother realized she wants a real family. Only took her twenty four years but better late than never." Adjusting her phone against her ear, she reaches over to flick the lights off when a clinking sound pierces through the room.

Turning around slowly, a chill runs down her spine.

"Did you get your car fixed or are you busing it down? Farkle finally passed his drivers test, I can ask him to pick you up if you want? Or oh! Charlie and I can come down! He got a promotion and bought a Mustang in the cutest color!"

She opens her mouth to reply, when she hears it again. Tightening her fingers around her keys, she narrows her eyes, trying to adjust to the dark. Maybe it's the rusty pipes again. But if it was, she needed to check it out.

Taking a staggered breath, she walks through the room, heels clicking against the floor beneath her. She ponders all the possibilities of what's actually lurking in the shadows and swallows hard.

"Maya?"

"Ye-um. Sorry. I just thought I heard some-" A crash makes her jump. She whips her head around as a shadow flashes by her. Inhaling sharply, she steps back until she hits the wall. Okay, she's fine, this is fine. Being an artist comes with a wild imagination. She can't count the amount of nightmares she's had with all the darker paintings she's done recently.

She can debunk this all she wants, but she knows she's not alone and her skin crawls at the thought. "Hey, Honey, I'm gonna have to call you back." She whispers before ending the call, leaning her head back against the wall. She knows she's gonna regret doing that. Horror movies 101: Never hang up on the person who could potentially save your life. Or at least know how you died.

She doesn't hear the clinking again and the tension subsides. Her shoulders slum in relief, loosening her death-grip on her keys, her eyes start to adjust to the dark.

Until the room started to fog in noxious fumes. Her eyes start to sting and she coughs to rid the smoke from her lungs. Panic runs through her veins and she grabs for anything to keep her knees from giving out.

What the hell was happening?

She reaches up frantically, grabbing at one of the painting with shaky hands. Her weight was too much and her throat starts to swell up as the painting snaps off the wall. She squeezes her eyes shut as she crashes to the ground, her keys slipping out of her hands.

Letting out a cry for help, tears build up in her eyes.

Please don't let her die in these shoes, she hates high heels and she did not pay a hundred and fifty dollars to be murdered her first time wearing them. She better be buried with these shoes.

A door creaks open, faint footsteps mixed with mumbled curse words rip into the silence.

Where are the flashbacks of all the great moments in her life before she dies? Where's her high school graduation, where's her scholarship to NYU, where's the fucking beaming white light that's supposed to shine down?

Her eyes slowly flutter back open as a shadowed figure creeps closer to her, a ski mask hiding their face and gloves that hide the color of their skin.

A frustrated " _Fuck_!" Slips out of the man's mouth as he kicked at her keys feverishly, taking notice in her. Her vision starts to blur and the shy colors are blending together but she squints to see him nonetheless. If she makes it out alive, you best know this asshole's karma is coming to him. "You weren't supposed to _be here_!" He hisses and stalks back towards her.

She shakes her head blindly, crawling back to the wall. She lets out a strangled weep in fear when he reaches down towards her.

Her head suddenly feels like dead weight and she pulls a hand up to it as she watches him rip the painting out of her grasp. His long sleeved shirt rises in the slightest as he grabs it, letting her eyes fall to the Scorpion tattoo he inked on his wrist.

The last thing she hears before her vision goes black is hushed words and the bell above the front door.

" _I'm sorry, Maya._ "

 **(*)**

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

Sighing, Maya flings an arm out to find the snooze button before a strangled " _ow_!" makes her pause. Eyes still closed, she takes a breath. "You are not my alarm clock." She points out.

"Last time I checked, no I am not." A deep voice answers back and maybe this was hell. God knows she's not going to heaven.

And what the hell is on her face? Her eyes spring open but, before she can tear the mask off, large hands are pinning her wrists back down on the gurney. The room sways and she blinks a few times, squinting at the bright lights. The beeping echos in her ears as the hands release her wrists.

"S'instinct, they always go for the mask first." There's that deep, I-just-woke-up voice again.

She lets out a little giggle, swaying her head to the side to take in the mystery man. Her eyes meet sea green ones, which belonged to a broad shouldered brown haired man. Her eyes trail along his face to his sharp jawline and full lips, down to his blue shirt that read "EMT".

Hold up.

She sits up abruptly as large, calloused hands grab her shoulders, pulling her back down. She doesn't have the strength to fight back, in fact she doesn't give a flying fuck if his hands stay on her body. She'd actually prefer it.

And is she in the back of van? She doesn't even care. Her headache miraculously disappeared and she feels _great._

"That," The man speaks up again, "Would be the morphine kicking in. It'll help with the pain."

She snorts in response, lulling her head back to the side to look at him again, her eyes falling heavy. "Whoa. You know what I just realized?" She slurs, her eyes wide. "Your eyes are the same color as my purse." It falls silent, she doesn't notice. "I like my purse."

The man blinks back at her, clearly unimpressed. "Okay... _anyways_ ," He says slowly, reaching down to the bandage on her forehead. "How are you feeling? You inhaled extremely toxic fumes, we weren't sure you'd wake from a coma, let alone in the car ride to the hospital." He explains, but his words become a blur as she stares at features. His brows were furrowed and his jaw was locked as he examined her wounds. Not one fucking pimple on this guy's face, unbelievable.

She realizes she's zoned out when he's starring at her with raised brows, oh shit it was a question. "I'm sorry, what?"

With a sigh, the sex god takes the mask off her face, draping an arm behind her head. "Do you remember your name?" He asks again.

"Why, so you know the name of the girl you're gonna give your number to?"

The man's head drops and she swears a small smile appears on his lips for a fraction of a second. "Will you stop flirting with me, I'm your EMT, I'm trying to save your life. I don't care if my green eyes match the color of your purse." He dismisses her, taking his arm off the gurney.

She scoffs. "Okay, you should feel flattered, that's my favorite purse."

"I'm gonna try this again, what's your name?"

"Hopefully Mrs. EMT."

"Oh my god."

 **(*)**

When she wakes up, it takes her four minutes to realize she's in a hospital bed, another five as to why the fuck she's _in_ a hospital bed. She winces as memories flood back to her in flashes.

Ski mask. Keys. The studio. The opening tomorrow. Toxic fumes. Sea greens eyes.

What?

Sea green eyes, jaw line, brown hair, purses, EMT's, morphine.

She let's out a whimper of embarrassment, sitting up in the bed. She flirted with a stranger, tripping on drugs. Put that on the list of things she'll think about when she can't sleep, along with tripping over her graduation gown and getting puked on on the subway.

Running her hands over her face, she glances down at the cord taped down to her arm. Oh god she hated needles. Also, the tape they use takes her like two weeks to get off, and that includes ripping the smallest of her arm hairs out along with it.

"You're awake!" She jumps slightly at the noise, her eyes snapping up to a nurse skipping in with a friendly smile. She responds with her own small awkward one. "Lucas said you were quite a fire ball last night. How are you feeling?"

She closes her eyes for a moment, holding her hand up. "Lucas?" She repeats in a groggy voice. How long was she out? Her throat was burning and her legs were aching.

The nurse shoots her another smile, holding out a paper cup. She takes it slowly, looking down at the clear liquid. "Oh, he's one of our EMT's. Sight for sore eyes, am I right?"

Maya eyes her over the paper cup, feeling the luke warm water run down her dry throat. The crow's feet and dark circles around the woman's eyes tell her she's at least mid forties. "R-right." She deadpans, glancing back down to the needle in her vein. She'd rather forget the whole fiasco and wallow in self pity later. "How, um," She pauses, "How long was I asleep?"

"About seven hours. We checked on you regularly, but we were waiting for you to wake up before running tests."

"Seven hours." Maya whispers before panic starts to sink in. The opening, her paintings, she's gonna miss it. Flinging the blankets off her legs, she takes a breath before ripping the needle out of her arm and stands up.

The nurses eyes turn frantic, rushing over to her. "No, no! You shouldn't be stan-" She warns just as Maya starts to sways back, steadying herself with the hospital bed.

"I have to go, I have to go right now." She murmurs, pushing the nurses hands off her, bee lining to the door. She did not bust her ass just to miss this because she accidentally got in the way of a juvenile crime.

 **(*)**

She doesn't realize she's still in a hospital gown until she's pushed the back doors open and feels a slight chill where there shouldn't be a chill. She glances down as the door slams shut to her bare feet. "Oh, come on!" She yells in frustration, tossing her head back. "I'm fucking done with this stupid fucking shit," She mutters under her breath and kicks at the brick wall a few times.

Before she breaks a bone, the sound of sirens ring through the air. She snaps her head towards the sound as an ambulance pulls through the driveway, stopping a few feet away. Sluggishly, she drops her hands from the wall, watching a tall brown haired boy jump down from the passenger side seat. When he looks up, green eyes meet hers, a provocative smirk spreads across his lips.

Did she kill someone in her past life? A Nazi? Converted to cannibalism? Because the only thing that could make this day worse was running into this shit dick.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she waits until he makes his way over to her with an amused expression before rolling her eyes.

"What are you doing?" Is the first thing he asks as he takes in her appearance.

"Leaving." She snaps and starts to walk towards the busy street, feet burning against the scolding cement in the unnecessary hot weather. She stops and turns around to see the man still watching her, shaking his head. "Oh, and like, thanks for saving my life, or whatever. Later HeeHaw!" With that she spun back around as footsteps trailed behind her slowly. She picks up the pace but her legs are still achy and she's still light headed. The footsteps catch up to her until someone's grabbing her arm, whipping her back around to face them. Okay, he clearly had the advantage on her, he's like six foot four.

Lucas towers over her, eyes flicking between her eyes and her wounded forehead. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, where are you going?" He pesters her, causing her to roll her eyes. Again.

"The studio, Ranger Rick, I have an opening today and a fresh out of school wanna-be doctor isn't gonna stop me."

"You know I liked you better when you were highly medicated."

Maya nods, pursing her lips. "I like me better when I'm highly medicated also. Now I'd appreciate it if you'd stop wasting my precious time. Don't you have kitten's to save from tree's?"

"Think that's firefighters."

"I didn't ask."

Lucas lets out a small laugh, "S'my break ma'am. Plus, you're not legally allowed to leave the premises until you're cleared. Which," He stops, his eyes trailing over her disheveled appearance, "You were clearly not." He points out with a cocky grin.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she took a step closer. Fisting his shirt between her fingers, she drags him down to eye level in a heated rage. She was so done with his shit. "I am an independent women, I do what I please." She warns. He doesn't flinch and she's suddenly well aware of the short distance between them when she realizes his eyes have a flicker of gold in them.

Huh.

It falls silent for a few seconds as they stare at each other, her stomach does a flip.

What in the holy hell was that?

Before she has time to question it, he lowers his gaze. "You have no shoes, independent women."

Despite previously acknowledging this fact, she looks down to see for herself just as Lucas looks up. Their heads smack together and she pulls back like a wounded puppy because fuck it was right on the gash over her eyebrow.

"Ow!"

"Shit!"

Looking up, Lucas rubs at his own forehead. "That's the second time you've hit me in the head in the last twenty four hours, I'm running out of brain cells for you to damage." He growls.

His accent comes out more when he's angry, she notices first.

"Are you sure you had many to begin with, Huckleberry?" She argues, rubbing her temple to appease her sudden headache. If he wasn't so prone to invading her personal bubble, things like this wouldn't happen.

Lucas lets out a dry laugh, gesturing over to his ambulance. "I find it extraordinary how cynical you are. Need I remind you that just a couple hours earlier you tried to propose to me?"

Her cheeks turn crimson red, suddenly exposed. Vulnerability was not an emotion she displays to the public, let alone to this Neanderthal. It's something she hides away until she's safe within the walls of her apartment where she can blast the music so loud she doesn't have to deal with it. Not even that, but she's basically wearing a shower curtain in the middle of a busy New York side street; confidence wasn't her strongest suit at the moment. "Look, whatever your name is-"

"Don't pretend you don't know my name."

She narrows her eyes. "Sorry I'll rephrase, _who the fuck cares what your name is_ ," He rolls his eyes. "I'm not missing the opening, do you have any idea how far West Street is?"

The brown haired boy tilts his head, throwing his arms up in disbelief. "Considering that's where _I saved your life_ , it may ring a bell. Plus, your head is bleeding again." He adds, his attitude falling from conceited to concerned.

Jesus this guy was as bipolar as it gets.

"I'll slap a band-aid on it and call it a day!" She shouts, turning back around to leave again. His words repeat in her head, causing her to wipe at her forehead roughly. She could already feel the blood trickle onto the back of her hand before she pulls it down to look at it.

Her inner panic prevents her from hearing the footsteps gaining on her. "If you don't walk back in there with your own two _bare_ feet, I'm going to haul you over my shoulder and drag you back in myself." Lucas calls out, crossing his arms over his chest.

She decides its probably in her best interest to abide by his rules, she doesn't need him invading her space again. "You know, I liked you better when I was highly medicated too."


	2. Chapter 2

**I wanted to wait at least a week to update this but it got a good response, and I'll have you know I stalked all you that reviewed/alerted/favorited. I appreciate the feedback, and here's the next chapter!**

 **(*)**

"You don't need to stand outside my room like a bodyguard, do I look like a threat to you?" Maya huffs as she whips open the door to her designated hospital room to the brown haired boy leaning against the nurses station directly across from her. He's been standing outside her room for the last fifteen minutes and it was really starting to interfere with her plans to escape.

Lucas glances up, mid conversation with the nurse she had encountered earlier, rolling his eyes. "You don't need to be a threat psychically, your personality is exhausting enough." He retaliates and oh she hates him.

She _hates_ him. And his broad fucking shoulders and perfect hair and if she doesn't throw him in a pit of lava by the end of the day, she's definitely gonna ask what shampoo he uses.

"I loath you."

He brings his hands up to his heart in mockery. "That one really dug deep, Shortstack."

She doesn't wait to see the expression on his face before she's slamming her room door closed in his face.

 **(*)**

It takes the blonde twenty three minutes to slip passed him and if his job wasn't on the line for this girl, he'd be thoroughly impressed. He went to the emergency room for one call, just to check up on the older man that he brought in a couple hours previous to a heart attack and she's gone.

"Okay, Sheryl, let's go over this one more time." He says slowly, resting his elbows on the desk, throwing his head in his hands with a sigh. "How did she leave her room?"

"With her legs, silly." Sheryl laughs as she leans back in her chair, clearly amused with herself.

The loud bang was him hitting his head off the desk.

A smaller hand is placed on top of his when he looks up. "This girl must be special if she has you running around in circles like this." Sheryl points out.

He blinks back at her in shock. "Did...no." He lets out an awkward laugh, she's clearly insane, age does that to people. "No, no. She's...no." His struggle to find words isn't helping his case, the older lady is padding his hand, amusement written over her face as she snickers.

"You can't pull off pathetic, sweety, go after her."

"You're not understa-" He starts, backing away from the desk.

"She needs tests done and could be a potential danger to herself if you don't find her." She says slowly before shooting him a wink.

He closes his eyes to calm himself. "Don't...don't do that."

 **(*)**

"I'M HERE! I MADE IT!"

The quiet chatter stops and a dozen eyes turn towards her as she falls into the Art Exhibition. The heels of her co worker, Emma, running towards her was the only sound following the silence.

She's pretty sure the blisters on her feet were the size of baseballs and she's not sure if that's blood running down the side of her face or sweat. But she made it, fuck she made it.

"Maya-"

"I'm good," She breaths out, leaning on her knees to catch her breath. She swats Emma's hand's away and straightens her back. "I'm good." She repeats.

Emma grimaces, "You have no shoes." She whispers.

"I know that, Emma, thank you." She grits through her teeth and whips around to the crowd, smacking a smile on her face.

"What happened last night? We were lucky to get the pipes switched in time for the opening!" Emma hisses behind her but she waves her off.

The whispering gnaws at her brain and she cracks her knuckles, walking over to her art displays. "Okay, look," She snaps, clapping her hands together. "As you're all wondering, yes this a hospital gown and yes that's blood seeping down my face." She deadpans, looking past the horrified expressions on these strangers faces. "Someone broke the pipe in the back room last night, stole one of my paintings and I nearly suffocated to death. On the bright side, the gash on my head will look pretty badass." In the midst of her rant, she misses the ding of the bell as someone else walks in. "I was drugged, escaped from the hospital twice and ran to get here on time. All the while being harassed by an _extremely_ attractive asshole. So, if you're gonna judge my paintings based on my presentation and appearance, well then, you're not the type of people I want to sell to anyways." She huffs at the shocked crowd before nodding. "Carry on."

She waits until everyone goes about their own business to let her face drop and shoulder slum. All she wanted was to have everyone be proud of her. She wanted her life to mean something, she didn't wanna be just another mouth to feed, just another number to the total population of New York. She didn't want to go home on holidays and hear about everyone's cookie cutter lives when she had nothing to put on the table to compare. That wasn't her, Maya Hart was no-

"You're thinking too much."

Licking her lips, she drops her head. "I'm not going back." She admits, turning around to put a face to the voice.

Lucas leans back against the wall with a smirk.

Maya's eyes go wide as she lunges towards him, grabbing his arm, "Don't lean on that!" She squeaks as he jumps away from the painting behind him.

"This did not go the way I'd planned." He admits, rubbing the back of his head.

Fixing the crooked painting, she turns back around, running a hand over her forehead. "Why are you here, Lucas?"

"I just had to see what your fascination with this art show was." He teases, looking up at the painting he almost destroyed with his large frame.

"Well. We're in an art exhibit...with art. Clearly here for band practice." She smiles sarcastically.

Lucas nods slowly, shoving his hands in his jeans. He's changed, she notes and opens her mouth to ask another question when he raises a plastic bag towards her. "Also, I thought you'd like your clothes back." He adds, a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

She narrows his eyes at him for a few seconds before snatching the bag from his grasp, looking into it to make sure it was her belongings and then looks back up. "Um...well, thanks." She doesn't know how to respond when all of their conversations have been jabs at each other. Building her walls back up, she gives him a tedious look. "You can leave now."

"Nah, I think I'll stick around for a bit, check out the art." He says simply, turning slightly to the open studio.

His irreverent attitude makes her blood curdling as she clenched her fists. "You hate art."

He tears his eyes off one of her paintings to give her a confused look. "When have I ever said that?"

"I was wishing." She snaps. Looking back down at her clothes she lets out an aggravated groan. "Fine, but you're coming with me, you don't fit in here."

Lucas frowns, looking down at his white shirt and jeans before glaring down at her outfit. "Oh, and you do?"

Grabbing at his bicep, she hauls them into the the backroom, locking the door.

After struggling to get the knot out of her gown out, Lucas pipes up. He has his back towards her after being threatened to gouge his eyes out of their sockets if he even tried to look at her while she was changing. "You should pick up the pace, this did not look ideal from an outsiders point of view."

Throwing her AC/DC shirt over her head, she thinks about it. As much as she hated to admit it, he's right. Two people stumbling in, clearly unfit for an art exhibition and then running into the backroom together didn't look the most appropriate. She mutters a _shut up, Sundance_ before telling him to keep his eyes forward.

She's managed to shove one leg in her jeans when she hears the clinking.

Her body runs cold when Lucas turns around grabbing at his arm. "Those pipes should not be out in the open like this, it's a safety hazard." He complains, looking down at his elbow in pain.

"Stop." Her voice is coarse and rugged, causing Lucas to freeze.

"Stop what?"

"Th-the clinking. The clinking, stop it." She rushes out, quickly throwing her other leg in her jeans. Her face turns pallid, her hands are jittery. The noise is repetitive, over and over and over again, playing in her head.

 _"You weren't supposed to be here!"_

 _"I'm sorry, Maya."_

Large hands grip her shoulders, shaking her out of her state of mind. Her eyes meet his frantically, "I-just...It's-" She stutters, shoving his arms off her. She couldn't breath, she couldn't stop replaying it in her head. Her body was so frigid it was physically painful, she steps back, banging into the concrete behind her as her heart beats loudly in her ears. The walls were closing in, or maybe they weren't but the air between them was. Her mouth was dry and the rooms starts spinning.

"Maya," Lucas says slowly, she forgot he was there. "Maya." His voice drops an octaive, ducking his head to keep eye contact. "You're having a panic attack," His eyes search the small room before he grabs her wrists lightly. "Okay, can you sit down for me?"

She nods slowly, and she has no idea what he just said but his eyes are soft and he's pulling at her wrists. Backing up, her back hits the concrete behind her, she lets herself slide down against the wall.

Crouching down in front of her, he can feel her shuttering against his hands and grabs her smaller ones in his. "What your favorite color?" He whispers.

" _I'm sorry, Maya_." Is what comes out instead, her eyes glossing over as Lucas palms her face in his hands, drawing her attention back to him.

"Maya, what's your favorite color?"

Blinking rapidly, she swallows. "I-I don't know."

Lucas nods, "Well mine's blue." He explains, "You wanna know why?"

Her brows stitch together. Taking a deep breath, she feels her throat opening back up when she nods back.

"When I was six, it was my first day of school and I didn't know the kids in my new school. I was nervous and scared until a boy poked me and told me we we had the same shirt. It was this blue flannel my mom bought me and I thought it looked ridiculous but he liked it and that was the start of our friendship." A snort comes from the blonde as he explained the story.

"That was the lamest story I've ever heard, I'm sorry."

Lucas lets out a light chuckle. "I'm gonna pretend that didn't hurt my feelings."

A laugh escapes her own lips, letting the situation sink in.

The laughter fades and she looks down at their hands before Lucas pulls away, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Wiping her sweaty palms against her jeans, she stands up, Lucas following suit. "What just happened there, the panic attack, it never leaves this room."

"And what exactly happened there?" He questions, tilting his head slightly.

Her eyes flicker to the pipes on the far end of the wall. "The sound of the pipes when you hit your arm against it. Was the same sound I heard before I couldn't breath and couldn't see. I just lost control of my own body...and it's the most terrifying and frustrating thing you can experience when you believe you're gonna die. When you know you're too weak to help yourself but you're angry because you think if you just push a little harder, you could have made it." She says honestly, a tight smile wrapped around her lips. "The whole thing just kept replaying over and over and over, I just- I panicked."

"Did you see who did this to you?"

"Not his face, but he has a tattoo. He told me he was sorry, he knew my name." She starts to pace back and forth in the small space between them.

Lucas shoves his hands back in his pockets, humming in response. "So you think he knows you?"

"I sure as hell wasn't walking around with a name tag," She whispers. She couldn't just google every person who has a Scorpion tattoo, the possibility of her actually finding the guy was next to nothing. But she needs to and it was gonna eat away at her until she finds the answer because he could have jeopardized _everything_ she worked for. She could have _died_ and if he knew her name, then it wasn't just a burglary, it was personal.

Lucas's mouth opens and closes, scraping his brain for anything to say. Eventually he sighs contently. "Okay. I know who to call."

"Ghostbusters?" She jokes.

He rolls his eyes, "Let me strive in playing the role of Sherlock, don't rain on my parade."

"Hold up, HeeHaw, I'm clearly Sherlock, which means you're bumped down to the small role of Watson."

 **(*)**

"You owe me so big for this, man."

Lucas looks up at the familiar voice of his best friend, pushing himself off the wall outside the studio with a grin. "Zay, dude, you got them?" He gasps as a cardboard box is shoved into his chest. He looks down at all the CD's labelled with random dates in sharpie.

"You bet your ass I got them, didn't take acting classes to pass time because I was bored. I had talent." Zay boasts, dusting his police uniform off.

Lucas's smile widens as he drops the box, engulfing his friend in a hug.

Zay rolls his eyes, patting the taller boy's shoulder. "Right, okay, off now. I iron this everyday- I'm suffocating!" He chirps as Lucas let's go, smiling down at the box. "Luke." He says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk. "Who is she?"

Lucas's face flushes red. "What? It's- it's a frien- she. Is a friend, I mean." He stutters, running a hand over his head.

Zay scoffs, holding a hand up. "I'm honestly _insulted,_ Lucas. _Insulted_. I rushed out here and lie to get you those security tapes. I didn't even fix my hair. Do you see the frizz? I didn't come out on my day off lookin' like black Annie for you to not tell me who the girl i-"

"Huckleberry, I sold both of my other paintings! Turns out, bleeding from the head gets you brownie points. I'll keep that in mind for next time."

Both boys looked up as the blonde bounced down the steps towards them, a bright smile on her face, her eyes sparkling.

"Don't tell me this is blue flannel boy?"

"That's the gi-!" Before Zay can continue, Lucas has his arms wrapped around the shorter boys mouth from behind.

"Yep, the one and only. Zay, meet Maya, for which I'm strictly here to look after. And that's it."

Maya's eyes flickered between the both of them before narrowing them. "I'm gonna pretend I didn't know you were just talking about me and ask if you got it?" She gushed, rocking back and forth on her heels, the light wind making her blonde curls brush over her face.

Both boys glance over at the abandoned box in the middle of the sidewalk, nodding, kept in their awkward position.

Maya crouches down, pushing her hair behind her ears and takes a peek inside before grinning. "This might actually work, I'm impressed." She pauses. "I'm also impressed by your hair, Zay, do you condition?"

Lucas shoots daggers at the short blonde, full on knowing she was listening in on their previous conversation.

The darker boy's face lit up as Lucas released him. "I do! I'm glad someone appreciates all the effort I put into it." He exclaimed, slapping Lucas on the shoulder and yelling "I like her!" Before leaving.

It falls silent again for a few moments before Lucas turns to her, shaking his head. " _Do you condition_?" He mocks.

Maya barks in laughter, "Hey, one compliment on the smallest thing can brighten up someone's day."

"Clearly you weren't worried about ruining mine."

"You just make it so easy."

 **(*)**

"Why do you still have a VCR, you're practically begging me to make fun of you."

Lucas shakes his head from the kitchen, looking over at Maya who is crossed legged in front of his TV, holding a bunch of tapes with a disturbed look on her face. Initially, she had come over so they could watch the security tapes, but ended up snooping through all his stuff. She refused to let him see her apartment and demanded they do this at his, so here they are. It's been three days since he's seen her, being an on-call for work limited his time to play Sherlock all day like she wanted to. She argued countless times that she can do this on her own (independent woman or whatever) but he just felt...obligated to help her with it. Despite that, he knows she couldn't do it on her own and the flicker of panic that flashes through her eyes every time he brings it up, tells him she doesn't want to either.

"I never beg." Slips through his mouth before he realizes how stupid that sounds and now Maya's starring at him with this blank expression but her eyes are intense enough to burn a hole through his head. Hopefully she burns through the part of his brain that holds this memory.

"We'll see." She hums and turns back to his tapes casually, leaving him confused as to what the fuck just happened.

Mumbling to himself, he grabs the paper towels off the shelf, grabbing the gauze from the bathroom and stalking back out to the living room to find the blonde flopping onto his couch, propping her boot clad feet on his coffee table. Surprisingly, he's already used to her careless behavior and leans against the door frame.

"Alright, get up." He demands.

The blonde looks up at him with an amused expression, holding in a laugh. "I'm comfortable right here, thanks for the offer though."

If she wants to be a brat about it, fine. He purses his lips, crossing his arms over his chest with a sly smile. "I need to make sure your wounds aren't infected, so you can either situate yourself in the bathroom or I haul your ass back to the hospital for hours upon hours of unnecessary tests."

She's already halfway to the bathroom by the time he's finished his sentence.

This is gonna be a long and painful road, he can see it now.

"Is this the part where you clean my wounds and we stare deeply into each others eyes before we kiss?" Maya fake swoons, puckering her lips before laughing as she hopped onto the sink counter. "A true Wattpad love story." She adds on, watching him rustle around in the cabinet beside her.

"Or your personal fantasy," Lucas suggests, closing the cabinet and wedging himself between her legs. "Apparently I'm an _extremely_ attractive asshole."

She grinds her teeth as she tries to come up with something to say, ignoring the tingling sensation as his thighs push up against hers. Swallowing to tend to her dry throat, she fixates her gaze on his chest, watching his shirt rise as he rips the gauze off her head. She grimaces, slapping his hand away with a scowl. "Okay, Doctor Hartman, calm down. I'd like to still have skin on my head by the end of this."

Lucas makes a face, "Doctor Hartman?"

Her jaw drops in shock, putting her hands on his chest to stop him from whatever the hell he was doing to her forehead. "Family guy?" She asks, getting a shrug in response. "How have you never seen Family Guy, you're lamer than I thought, Huckleberry."

"Uh, because I watch _good_ shows?" He retaliates, throwing the bandage in the garbage beside his toilet. He doesn't flinch when she punches him in the chest.

He's used to that by now, too.

"Okay then, what do you consider _good_ shows?" She asks, sitting up straighter against the counter.

"Prison Break."

"Season?"

"Third."

"Oh my god, we have something in common HeeHaw, I'm flabbergasted."

"What's flabbergasting is the fact that your hands are still on my chest." He points out and she drops her hands in a flash, face draining of all color. "I'm kidding." He laughs.

If her head wasn't stinging so bad from the rubbing alcohol, she would be panicking. The conversation dies out as he wraps a new bandage over her gash. She follows his movements with her eyes as he cleans everything up, jumping off the counter to check out the new gauze. Not gonna lie, she looks pretty kick ass with it, and if anyone asks, she'll just say she took down a bank robber on her way to work, or whatever. She purses her lips. Yeah, that'll do.

She waits until he's finished and turning towards her to let out a question she's been dying to ask all night. "Why are you helping me with all this?"

"All what?"

She rolls her eyes at his typical answer. "The injuries, the security cameras, finding the guy that did this to me?"

He doesn't reply right away, because really, he doesn't really know why. All he knows is she's reckless and prone to accidents. "Because if you die on my watch, I'm responsible, since you refuse to stay in a hospital, I have to make sure you don't bleed out to death for being a stubborn brat."

She gives him a look. "It's just a scratch."

"And people drown in puddles, Maya!" He flairs his arms, his voice a pitch higher.

She tilts her head at the awful analogy. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

"Why don't you give straight answers?"

She stares at him for moment, bright eyes sparkling in mischief and leans forward. "Spoiler alert, Michael dies in Prison Break."

"Get out."

 **(*)**

"That's gonna leave a huge scar."

"I'll get bangs."

"So, let me get this straight." Riley says slowly, choosing her words wisely, dropping back against the bed, the blonde shifting over so they could both fit on the twin. The bed creaks over the Rolling Stones blaring through the small apartment when Maya passes the bag of chips to her. She blindly takes it, starring at the cracks on the off colored white paint that had most certainly been painted over countless times to cover the desperately needed repairs the owners were too cheap to pay for. Popping a salt and vinegar chip in her mouth, she turns her head, "You were attacked at the gallery, ran out of the hospital and ran an hour across New York with only a gown. Barefoot." The blonde nods in confirmation and Riley turns on her side, propping her head up on her hand. "And a mystery man who saved your life, or at least tried to, tracked you down to make sure you were okay and is helping you crack this case. And you hate him." She scrunches her face in confusion. "Fill in the spaces, Peaches, what am I missing here?"

Maya chuckles, grabbing a handful of chips, shoving as much as she could into her mouth before mumbling, "He annoys me, always has something to say," She swallows as she sits up. "And the more I insult him, the cockier he gets. He has this stare that's so intense like he can see right through me, makes me wanna punch him."

"So he responds accordingly to your sarcasm, doesn't take no for an answer, has a back bone and is attractive." Riley stats, sitting up next to the blonde with a taunting smile.

Maya runs a hand through her hair as she stars at the wall to avoids her friends stare. "I never said he was attractive." She whispers. Surely Riley couldn't have heard that over the base of the music but the brunette hops up from the bed with a devious, manipulative look. And god no, she's in for it now. She can almost feel the rush of adrenaline about to burst out of the brunette.

"Riley-"

"You can't keep building your walls up, Maya, eventually you're gonna block out something good!"

Maya moans, dropping back down on the bed, draping an arm over her eyes as she prepared for her best friends rant. This is the first time she's seen her Honey in almost three months, they were so busy with their own schedules and with Riley in Law school and her neck deep in paint brushes. And they're spending it talking about _him_.

"Your paintings aren't gonna satisfy your sexual needs, Peaches."

"There's porn for that." She mentions under her breath. The bed dips, her body bouncing slightly when Riley jumps on it, grasping the blondes knees.

"Maya, you need to be loved!"

Huffing, she sits back up, causing Riley to fall back on her knees. "I appreciate the concern, Riles, I do. But relationships just aren't my thing. It's your thing. I don't hassle you on how sickening you and Charlie are when you're sucking face, don't hassle me for liking my alone time."

Riley's face falters. "I wanted to talk to you about that actually, he's been acting really strange."

"What do you mean?"

"He asked me to elope with him. Like pack up, leave everything in our review mirrors, elope. Crazy right?"

"To be honest, I've always thought he had a few screws lose." She says honestly, shrugging as she gets up to shut her stereo off.

"He's just been acting strange, I don't know..." Riley starts, follow suit and standing up from the bed. "And hey! Don't use the distraction method to get out of talking about the real issue here."

"No issue, I'm fine."

"I wanna meet Lucas."

"No."

"You're resisting the inevitable."

"You're never meeting him."


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, fanfiction, I haven't been able to see my reviews to any of my stories for two days, get your shit together.**

 **On a lighter note, I appreciate your feedback, per usual. It honestly just makes my day hearing from you guys, so thank you for that. Let's me know the only skill I have, I don't completely suck at.  
**

 **(*)**

"Okay, but what I don't understand is why Zay is here." Maya asks from the kitchen, watching the two boys bicker in the living room. She couldn't care less about what they were arguing about but she's been knee deep in their conversation for over ten minutes because frankly, there's nothing better to do.

Lucas Friar was a neat freak, and for the past week she's made it her mission to intervene with that. There's not one spec of dust anywhere in his apartment (and trust her, she checked, running her hand under the fridge and nothing) and it wasn't really an issue for her. In fact, it's a pleasant change from her clutter. But she would rather skin herself alive and roll in salt before she admitted that out loud.

Four days ago she hijacked all his spoons and hid them around the apartment. When he finally realized what she'd done, after going for a spoon for his yogurt, he sat at the kitchen counter for twenty minutes with his head in his hands. She laughed so hard she fell off the couch.

It took him a day and a half to find them. He's still missing three.

Zay scoffs, bringing her out of her daze, bringing his attention away from Lucas to stare at her in disbelief from across the room. "I am a cop, Blondie. I'm good at these things. You amateurs clearly need my help with solving this and finding out who the suspect is.

Lucas snorts in disagreement, shooting Maya a look. "He just wants to exploit this to get promoted."

"I would be a great detective!" Zay declares, smacking Lucas upside the head.

The taller boy slaps him back. "I will not hesitate to kick your ass."

"I will handcuff you to your own apartment."

The doorbell rings, all arguments long gone between the men as they looked at the door silently.

"Usually when that happens, it means someone's on the other side." She whispers sarcastically before lifting her almost empty cereal bowl to drink the rest of the milk.

Lucas ignores her comment, snapping his head towards her. "It's nearly midnight."

Lowering the bowl, she sends him a cheeky smile and hops off the bar stool. "Relax, it's Riley."

"Oh, _Riley_! Of course!" Zay pauses. "Who is Riley?"

"My best friend."

"Why am I even surprised you're inviting strangers to my apartment like it's a sleepover." Lucas babbles as he reaches for the door, pulling it open to a yawning brunette on the other side.

Maya's smile widens as she runs towards Riley, leaping onto her. "Relax, Huckleberry, she just wants to meet you. Make sure you're not gonna murder me and dispose my body in a lake somewhere."

"I'm reaching that point." He taunts with a smirk.

"Plus, she's a good manipulator, I tried my best. She invited herself."

Riley pulls back from Maya's arms, smiling at the two boys starring at them, trying to decipher the situation. "You," She glanced at the taller man, "Must be Lucas." She grins, reaching her hand out to him.

Lucas nods, shaking her hand. "In the flesh."

"I've heard so many pleasant things."

"I find that hard to believe."

"That's because I'm lying."

Lucas blinks back silently as Zay popped up behind him. "They're exactly alike." He whispers.

Riley glances at him with a giggle. "We'd be platonic lovers if I wasn't engaged."

Zay laughs obnoxiously loud, drawing attention to himself as he swung an arm over the brunette's petite shoulders. "Riley, Riley, _Riley_. Girl, you are fine as _hell._ "

She clears her throat, the tips of her ears turning pink. "I'm engaged." She repeats, her voice cracking slightly.

"Surprisingly, I'm okay with that."

Lucas sighs, grabbing the back of Zay's hood, yanking him away from girl. "Okay, buddy, tone it down a bit, this isn't The Bachelor, you don't need to hit on every girl you see."

"False accusations, I have never flirted with Maya."

Maya nods in confirmation as Lucas shoots daggers at him. Lifting his hands in surrender, he takes a step back. "And I never ever plan to."

Clapping her hands through the awkward tension, Maya skips towards them. "Okay, now that everyone's met, let's get to work!"

 **(*)**

"What am I supposed to be seeing?" Riley says slowly as the four of them squint at the large pixels on the tv.

"With these graphics, I can't tell if we're watching security footage or Jurassic Park." Zay adds.

Lucas rolls his eyes. "Okay, are we done making fun of my tv?"

"Nope," Maya chimes in, padding his shoulder. "This tv is older than my ancestors, Huckleberry."

"Who even uses tv anymore, do you not know the internet exists?" Riley continues just as Lucas stands in front of the tv with a scowl.

"I will kick you all out of my apartment."

"Wouldn't make a difference, you're the only one here who has no legitimate excuse to be." Zay mumbles under his breath and if looks could kill, Lucas would have him in a pile of ashes on the freshly vacuumed carpet.

"The tattoo." Maya clarifies, pointing to a black blotch on the corner of the screen. She watches Riley lean in closer before humming.

"Well what's it of?"

"A scorpion."

"And we're going on that?"

Zay squeezes in between them, glancing at Riley with a wink, causing the girl to shy away before suggesting, "If we can get someone who knows how to tinker with video footage, we can probably get a more accurate description of the guy."

Both girls share a look. "Farkle."

"Bless you."

"No, we didn-" Riley starts to explain before Maya shakes her head, telling her not to bother.

 **(*)**

He distinctly remembers Maya telling him that they're going to see a man named Farkle on Monday morning. Despite this, he finds the blonde knocking furiously on his door at the ass crack of dawn, Saturday morning. And he already knows it's her before he's whipping open the door based on her knock alone. He runs a hand over his face, internally groaning because god, this was his only day off this week and he planned to make it as unproductive as possible. Rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, he watches Maya's eyes run over his bare chest and sweatpants and wait what the fuck.

Pulling his door open all the way, he grabs her wrist, pulling her towards him. "What the hell happened?!"

Maya gives him an apathetic look, clearly unimpressed as blood trickled down the side of her face. "Not important."

"Not impor-" He stops because what the actual fuck is wrong with her?

"I need you to heal me back up, work your EMT magic on me, Sundance."

"Not until you tell me how you managed to reopen your wound."

"That's fine, I'll just bleed out. Onto this lovely. White. Carpet." She pushes, "That won't leave a stain right?"

He takes a deep breath, clenching the doorknob until his knuckles turn white. "Get in the apartment before I change my mind."

Maya smiles sheepishly as he slams the door closed.

He did not have time for this shit today. Roughly kicking the bathroom door open, he grabs everything he needs and walks back out to the living room. Maya's in the kitchen with her head in the sink. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he sighs. "What are you doing?" When she looks up, the blood dripping down her neck into the sink and his heart sinks. Now he just feels like an ass. In his defense, he was never a morning person. She was bound to find out sooner than later, with the 'Scooby gang' as Zay likes to call them, meeting up more frequently.

"Couldn't find your paper towels and didn't wanna make a mess." She says honestly, dipping her head back into the sink as he crossed over to her.

"Okay, up." He says, grabbing her chin, tilting her head up to look at the fresh gash. Looking around quickly, he grabs a facecloth with his limited resources, flicking the tap on. He runs it under the water before placing it over the wound. He see's her wince and he admires her tolerance to pain because he had to admit, it looked extremely painful. "Hold that there and sit, I'll be right back." He says quickly, replacing her hand with his over the cloth.

When he gets back with the gauze, she's propped up on the kitchen counter and her hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail. Shaking his head, he grumbles out, "When I said sit, I meant on a chair."

She eyes him with a tight smile as he takes in the droplets of blood staining her white v-neck. Her eyes follow his down to her shirt and she frowns. "Awesome."

He opens his mouth but shuts it slowly, placing the gauze beside her. "I'll uh- I can get you... a shirt. If you want." He suggests, cautiously.

Maya narrows her eyes. "Stop being nice, it's weird."

He rolls his eyes, this girl was unbelievable. "Do you want a shirt or not?"

 **(*)**

Looking down at her shirt again, she purses her lips. This was one of her favorite shirts and she's run out of bleach to wash it out quickly. Glancing back at the hall where Lucas disappeared into minutes ago, she hops off the counter. Tossing the cloth she was holding against her eyebrow, she pulls her shirt over her head. Glancing down at her bra, she huffs in satisfaction that it didn't seep into it. This was ultimately her favorite white lacy bra and she would start snapping necks if something as stupid as falling into a bush ruined that. I mean, she was already on her way to Lucas's apartment anyways, but at least she had a better excuse now.

No wait, that came out wrong. It wasn't an excuse, it was a perfectly good reason. She needed the other half of the security tapes to watch on her own while everyone was busy with their schedules until Monday. Apparently, showing up to the studio bleeding all over the floor in a hospital gown labelled her as 'unstable and unsuitable for work due to a traumatic experience' forcing her to take time off. So, she had a lot of time on her hands.

And that is the only reason she showed up to his apartment and she's standing by that.

"So, you're like _really_ tiny and this was the smallest shir-"

Turning around, she see's Lucas stop in his tracks in the hall. Her brows furrow for a moment when she realizes he's not starring at her.

He's starring at -oh god.

Clearing her throat, she lifts her stained shirt over her chest to cover herself just as Lucas raises his eyes to meet hers.

"Um." He closes his eyes for a moment, struggling to find words as he walked back into the room. "Here."

Her eyes flicker down to the blue flannel, she grabs it with shaky hands. Her cheeks are burning and she's surprised her whole body isn't a big shade of red, because her skin was on fire under his gaze. She goes to say something just as he reaches behind her. His bare skin brushes against hers and she steps back to just get rid of all these tingly feelings. Her back bangs into the edge of the counter and Lucas pulls back, grabbing at her waist as she stumbles.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy." He rushes out, guiding her to the stool beside the island. "You're losing a lot of blood, you're light headed."

Yeah, she wasn't lightheaded because she was _bleeding,_ as she made _painfully_ obvious _._ Aren't paramedics supposed to be smart?

She hisses as he places the cloth back on her wound to clean it. He's standing between her legs again and hey if the first time wasn't awkward enough, why not have them both shirtless this time? Sounds fantastic. Her eyes land on the blue flannel that'd slipped out of her hands when she hit the counter and plays with her fingers to distract herself from the heat between her legs.

"You gonna tell me what happened?"

Her eyes widen when he drops his hands to look at her. "What happened with what? Right now? Nothing." She assures quickly.

"I meant your wound."

"Oh. Right. I walked...into a thing."

"With your head?" He raises a brow and she can't take this, nope, fuck this.

Standing up, she swallows hard, her heart pounding in her ears. "Thanks for stitching me back up Huckleberry, I gotta go though." Turning around she sweeps his shirt off the floor, pulling it over her shoulders quickly as he stared in utter confusion.

When she leaves, she remembers she never got the tapes she originally came for.

 **(*)**

"You called for an emergency meeting to tell me what Lucas looks like without a shirt on?"

"No."

"Well that's what I heard."

Grabbing the napkin depenser off the table, Maya starts to play with it. "Yeah, well, you like to filter people's words to what you actually wanna hear." She points out.

Riley smiles, leaning back in the booth across from her. "Then why was this so urgent?"

She has a point.

 **(*)**

"So, she came to your apartment unannounced, took her _shirt_ off, you were _in_ _between her legs_ , and _nothing_ happened?"

Lucas shifts uncomfortably, looking around the small diner in the off chance that someone could hear his friend's foul mouth. "That's- it wasn't that simple."

"So she didn't have her top off?"

"She did."

"Were you standing between her legs?"

"To tend to her _bleeding forehead,_ yes. Contrary to popular belief, Zay, not everyone is thinking about sex all the time."

Zay leans back in his seat, eyeing him for a long moment before cackling. "Oh man, you're a fucking idiot." Lucas starts to protest as Zay puts a hand up, leaning forward again. "I know it's been a while since you've been laid, I understand, I get you-"

"Shut u-"

"But god damn, Luke, you're blinder than a bat."

"Isn't it rat?"

"What? No, it's bat."

"I don't know Three Blind Mice just keeps popping up in my head."

"Okay stop it! Stop trying to change the subject." Zay says, slamming his hands down on the wobbly table. "You missed a dire opportunity, point blank."

Lucas groans. "I can't miss an opportunity that didn't present itself! I don't even know how she feels, in fact I never know what the hell she's thinking and I never know what to expect."

"So you admit you would act on it, given the opportunity. I knew it." and Zay let's out a _giggle_ , an actual _giggle._

"I never said..." Lucas stand up, pushing his empty plate to the center of the table. "Forget it. I'm leaving, my break's over anyways."

"Oh, c'mon! I was joking! Not really, but I need a favor so you can't leave yet."

Lucas stops, turning back around, tilting his head slightly. "Riley?"

"Indeed."

 **(*)**

"Remind me again why Riley isn't riding with us?" Maya drowns out, watching her friend slip into the police cruiser with Zay, before glancing up at Lucas who was fishing his keys out of his jeans.

They haven't talked since she ran out two days ago but they already made the plan to meet up with Farkle so she couldn't coward away. Plus, she's spent her whole life pretending to be something she wasn't, pretending she was perfectly happy in her broken home. She could totally pretend she was emotionally stable for a short car ride, despite having his shirtless chest embedded into her brain. She's _fine_. And he seemed perfectly fine too.

It kind of bothered her that he was acting so casual about it all, actually.

And no, she buries that feeling in the deepest darkest place of her brain because Maya Hart does not do feelings, she laughs at it.

Lucas looks up as the cruiser pulls out of the parking lot with a chuckle. "Owed him a favor from the other day."

Maya eyes him from the sidewalk, knowing he's holding back from the whole truth. "If I get complaints about him harassing her-"

Lucas shakes his head as he climbs in the drivers seat, Maya following shortly after. "Relax, Zay's ego may be bigger than his hair, but he's not gonna do anything she doesn't give the okay to."

Surprisingly, that relaxes her as she pulls the car door open.

 ** _Bang_**

Her heart stops as the door swings against the car beside them, clashing into it. Panicking, she jumps in the car, closing the door, whistling innocently.

Looking over, Lucas's hands were tight against the wheel.

"Did you just-"

"No."

He turns towards her with raised brows. "You did, didn't you. You scratched my car." He snaps and she shakes her head imperceptibly.

It's probably not even that big of a scratch, she lies to herself, tapping her fingers against her thigh. She can feel him starring at her side complexion and pops her lips casually, playing with the window button.

Within seconds, he's out of the car, stalking to the other side. His jaw clenches as he stares at the outside of her door. She peaks a glance at him when his eyes flicker up to hers.

"Yep, there it is."

Awkwardly, she starts rolling up the window. "I-I don't see it."

"It's _right_ there."

"What? I can't hear you, the window, it's like up, what are you saying?"

 **(*)**

"What the- will you just-" Maya pushes at Zay, timidly. "Put your gun away, what are you doing?!"

Zay waves it up in the air, causing Riley and Lucas to duck. "I don't know who this guy is!" As if that justifies anything.

"Just, get away- get away from the door. How did you even become a cop?" Maya grunts, shoving at him to step farther back.

"Guys, it's fine." Riley pipes up, slipping through the arguing pair to knock on the door. "We've known Farkle since elementary school."

When the door flings open, a brown haired girl with big black rimed glasses stares back at them.

"Smackle?" Maya and Riley say in unison. And she's honestly surprised, she didn't think their relationship would suffuse past high school, but the shiny diamond ring on her finger says otherwise.

Zay takes a large step towards Lucas, going unnoticed by the rest of the group. "Why do all her friends names sound like discount brand candy bars?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: My apologies for the wait darlings, too much shit has been going on recently. This sucks, I'm terribly sorry, it's 6 am. It was the only day I got off work early enough to accomplish this and really wanted to update for you guys, I apologize again!**

 **There will be one more chapter ^-^**

 **Enjoy, or try to!  
**

 **(*)**

Judging by the size of Smackle's ring, she shouldn't be so surprised to find how well off they are. Walking into the open foyer, she dismisses the two girls talking and her jaw drops.

A large spiral staircase right smack in the middle, large portraits decorating the salmon colored walls with the highest ceiling she's ever seen. Sometimes she had to duck to make sure she didn't bang her head off her door frame and Farkle can throw a ball up and lose it with the height of his ceiling.

Makes her apartment look like a homeless shelter- it pretty much is.

She hums in surprise, he really out did himself, she was proud.

"I assume Farkle informed you we would be coming?" Riley's voice snaps her back to reality as she bounces on the balls of her heels, turning to the raven haired woman glancing between the four of them.

Smackle grins, pulling the door back, black stilettos echoing into the foyer. "He did." She says softly, turning her head to look up the spiral staircase. "He's upstairs, four doors down on the right! Go on up, just knock first!"

Zay snorts, "Why, is he watching porn or something?"

Silence.

Maya rolls her eyes.

"I'm...that was uncalled for, I'm sorry, this staircase right? Got it."

She takes a quick glance at Lucas who is wrapping an arm around the darker boys mouth, guiding him towards the stairs and away from the tense situation he just put them all in.

 **(*)**

"They have fourteen different choices of cereals. I'd like to think this would be Leonardo DiCaprio's biggest decision every morning. That's my goal in life."

"The stairs are that way, how did you find your way to the kitchen?"

Snickering, she glances up at Lucas, jumping off the stepladder (she didn't need him making any more midget jokes) with Lucky Charms tucked protectively under her wing. Arm. Same thing.

And she knows just by the way his lips crook slightly that he's not even surprised to find her suboging through the kitchen of someone she hasn't seen in over two years. She can't decide if she likes that he already knows her ways or if maybe she'll letting him in a little too early.

"I'm taking full advantage of this situation and I'd advise you to do the same, chiseled chest." She quips as she props up on one of the tall bar stools, two bowls in front of her. "Seriously, do you buy shirts two sizes too small on purpose to show off or what?"

Lucas shakes his head slightly and she's not surprised he listened to her, and maybe he's letting her in a little too early too.

"Maya, you can't just take all the marshmallows for yourself."

He really underestimates her.

 **(*)**

Twelve minutes, a petty argument and Lucky Charm marshmallow's down her shirt later, she's being dragged up the spiral staircase by the loving hands of Riley. She can feel the brunette's sharp hold already bruising under her skin and she already looks like she volunteered in one of HeeHaw's hoedown throw-down bull riding incidents, she just doesn't care anymore. Like honestly, how long does it take for a gash on a forehead to heal up? She only got gassed and hit her head against a floor, it wasn't that big of a deal.

"If I promise not to run away again, will you unleash your satanic grip on my delicate body?" She wines dramatically.

Huckleberry is laughing beside her before he realizes he's also being dragged by the tiny brunette.

Riley snaps her head back with a dismissive glare, "You were shoving marshmallows down each others shirts," She scolds as they reach the top of the stairs. "Have you no manners, Maya?"

The tense hold on her arm is gone and she pulls her arm back, inspecting it for blood before looking back up with a smile. "It's like you don't even know me, peaches."

And then they're walking through this door that's double the height of Lucas and come on. Seriously?

Her eyes wander over the wall of computers, different sizes, different makes, colors. on the other side was pie charts, bar graphs. A long shelve above them cluttered with trophies he's won dating back to preschool to top of his class in university. It was literally just a decent room full of computers. She needs one, she only goes on it for three things: Pizza delivery, porn and cat videos.

"The tape." Farkle demands, holding out his hand for the cd, eyes glued to one of the many computers.

She was living off noodles in a cup while he's having steak for breakfast. That's both their lives summed up in a sentence. "Still as welcoming as always." She mumbles, dropping the cd in his awaiting hand.

Farkle quickly slides it in the side of his desktop before twirling his chair around to face the group of confused faces. "Still a misanthropist I see." His eyes flicker to Maya as someone lets out a " _What the fuck does that mean_?"

Sighing, his eyes landed on a darker skinned boy with frizzy hair. "To hate, vige and disgusted by the human race."

"That explains a lot." Lucas comments, sending a smirk in the blondes direction.

Riley doesn't hesitate to pull an arm out across the blondes chest to prevent her from lunging at the boy. "Farkle likes his words. "

"And who are you?" Farkle questions, ducking his head, observing the strangers, hands clasped together like he deemed himself an important member of society. He probably was, she hasn't kept track.

She just realized she's a pretty shit friend and should probably ask him out to coffee to catch up sometime. Except he'll declare they go to the place that sprinkles real gold flakes on his ice cap and her bank account would break.

Kidding, she doesn't have a bank account, fuck that. Her money is all under her mattress, right where it should be.

She glances at the boys before looking back at Farkle, speechless. Because who really are they to her? More importantly, who is Lucas to her? She can feel the sweat building in her palms. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have gotten this far, she wouldn't have made it to her opening, hell he saved her life. How much more important can a person get after saving your life?

And fuck if she doesn't actually look forward to sitting on his couch, going through videos every other night, throwing popcorn at him just to see his nose crinkle and the way his jaw locks. The way he pretends to be annoyed (except for when she scratched his car, _that_ he was actually not pleased about) but there's a ghost of a smile on his face every time because he knows she doesn't mean any of it. Or the fact that there's always strawberry ice cream in the fridge because he knows she likes it (not because she keeps eating it all on him) and how he still pins her down every now and again to make sure the gash on her head isn't infected.

He cares.

And fuck, so does she.

Her eyes linger on him for a moment, standing there with his hands in his jeans pockets.

Shit, fuck, dammit, fuck.

He feels her starring at him and looks at her with furrowed brows. The blood drains from her face and she reaches out to grab Riley's arm to steady herself. She can see him word an " _Are you okay_?"

And oh god stop fucking caring so much.

And fuck she _likes_ him.

This is the worst thing that could ever possibly happened.

Riley glances down at Maya's hand cutting the blood circulation off in her arm before shooting her an alarmed look. " _What's wrong_?" She hisses, eyes snapping back to Farkle typing away.

 _"Nothing."_

 _"Clearly not nothing."_

 _"Drop it."_

 _"It's happening isn't it? You're realizing you like him!"_ The brunette's entire face lights up and she hates it.

Nope, she's not doing this. Clearing her throat, she ducks her head and heads for the door. "I'm going to the bathroom."

"With your cereal?"

She forgot she'd grabbed the bowl while Riley was dragging them off out of the kitchen. Glancing down, she pauses, looking at the bowl full of marshmallows. Okay, yeah, this is fine. She doesn't look back at Lucas, letting out a snappy "Yes I am, Problem?" Before running out of the room.

(*)

That cannot be what she thinks it is.

Please don't be what she thinks it is.

Her fingers graze over her signature at the bottom before running along the paint strokes of the portrait.

Everything slows down, her eyes trained on her painting, over every line and smudge that she erased, every paint she mixed to get the perfect green to color the trees. The amount of tears shed on that very painting because it just wasn't perfect yet and she didn't know what it lacked for it to be perfect.

And she wasn't angry, she wasn't sad, she wasn't anything. She couldn't feel _anything._

She shuffles back, her hip hitting the shower curtain as she takes it in.

Yeah. There it was. That's...the painting that was stolen. Farkle has her painting in her bathroom. Farkle broke into the gallery.

She doesn't feel the bowl slip from her fingers, she doesn't hear it crackle onto the ground, her eyes are focused on one part of the painting.

"PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN'T JUST DROP THAT BOWL ON MY NEW PORCELAIN FLOORS!"

But this doesn't make sense, that wasn't the voice she heard. She may have been literally dying but that's not the fucking voice. That voice repeated in her head a hundred times every night before she went to bed, echoed when she was alone with her thoughts. She couldn't _shower_ without remembering it. He doesn't have any tattoos, this doesn't make _sense_.

"Maya?"

She moves her head slightly, finally taking in the group pilled into the spacious bathroom.

Her eyes dart back to the painting.

Answers, she needs answers. Where the hell is her voice? Why can't she talk or move?

"She's in shock."

"She's in shock fo-"

"Farkle, why is she starring at your painting?"

That's Smackle's voice. She doesn't know when she got in the bathroom but I guess it's a party now.

She's probably gonna cry. Or scream. Most likely cry because if it really was Farkle then he's capable of anything and she's probably gonna die.

She doesn't know what the fuck she's gonna do, all she knows is she's definitely having a panic attack.

Again.

How fucking embarrassing.

"Farkle that's her painting. What is her painting doing in your _house_?" Riley interjects and she glances at her in shock because she's never hear that tone of voice come from such a tiny person before.

"Wait, what?" Lucas's face lights up, a dark expression, pupils dilating.

Remember five minutes ago when Lucas was her biggest worry? She misses that.

"You have five seconds to explain yourself before I rip your throat out."

Zay pushes at his chest with a throaty laugh, Farkle stumbling back into Smackle. "Lucas, Luke. Back down, you're good, you're good."

Farkle is shaking his head ferociously and steps into the circle they've created around him. "I-I-I have no idea what you guys are talking about, a guy gave me that on the street like two weeks ago." He stutters, arms flailing.

He's probably freaking out more than she was but something clicks. She tilts her head slowly, teeth clenched. "What did he look like, Farkle?"

"I don't know, blonde, really tall, holes in his shirt. Scruffy beard."

Lunging at him, she fists his shirt in her hands, pulling him as close as she could. "And he just gave this random painting to you? And you had absolutely no fucking questions?" She growls. She can see the fear building in his eyes, his face pallid, skin gone cold.

"Someone told him to give it to me but wouldn't give in to who it was. And it was a great painting, I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity." He whispers against her and she doesn't know what she was about to do and she'll never know because there's hands on her waist and suddenly her feet are off the ground.

God dammit Lucas.

"Okay, short stack, take a breath. We're gonna figure it out." His breath is in her ear and how the hell is she supposed to be intimating and get answers when she's being thrown around like a ragdoll.

"Hey Lucas," She says softly, starring at the group that she'd captured the attention of.

"Yeah?"

"I hope you're not allergic to nuts because yours are gonna be in your throat if you don't put me down right now."

"Do you promise to act civilized and listen to Farkle?"

"I will _end_ you."

"Okay, that's a no."

 **(*)**

"Maya, you of all people should know that Farkle would never do that."

Somehow, Riley was the one to convince her to not decapitate Farkle for not knowing more about the mystery man and now they're back at her homeless shelter apartment. The tv's on in the back as static noise between Riley's life lesson's she keeps getting off those five cent gums.

Why is she even here? She should be out on Broadview street to find this guy, why he hell was she here?

"You do know that, don't you?"

Maya sighs, leaning back against the couch, eyes following the pattern on the ceiling. "Yes, Riles. Farkle isn't the big bad villain. I've caught on."

The brunette's knee's knock against hers as she turns to sit cross legged in front of the blonde. "Well then, what's wrong?"

What's wr- is she kidding?

Sitting up, she blinks at her best friend in judgmental silence. _What's wrong_.

"What's wrong? Let's talk about number one," She lifts a finger with a groggily laugh. "This guy went through the trouble of breaking into the gallery, releasing toxic fumes, stole my painting. Then gave it to another guy to give to Farkle?" She squeaks and her arms are flailing because how can Riley not know how unbelievable this situation was? Not to mention _dangerous._

"Nobody goes through that much trouble without coming back to finish the job they started. I've watched CSI, Riley! I'm in danger! My pocket knife can't protect me from a mentally ill man with access to poisonous gases!"

Riley nods, pursing her lips. "Okay, well I can barely open a pickle jar so I'll be no help here."

Maya's brows scrunch together for a moment. "Okay, but those are actually really hard to open-"

"I know right! Like it was a bad hypothetically situation to compare my strength to but-"

"Okay, no we're getting off track. Who's the strongest person I know?"

Riley's lips curl into an evil smile. "I have an idea." She says slowly, shifting closer to the blonde.

"No."

The brunette pouts, placing her hands on Maya's thighs. "Maya, he's strong, intimidating-"

"No."

"He's an EMT, he probably knows how to kill someone with a pressure point. The guy will break in, he'll be like _whoop, let me just pinch your neck and oh look you're paralyzed on the floor._ Fool proof plan!"

"I said no."

"And he cares about you! He's the best protection you have!"

Maya huffs, closing her eyes. "Zay's a cop."

"Who pulled a gun on Farkle because ' _I don't know who this guy is_ '?!"

"You have a valid point and that frustrates me."

 **(*)**

"So that's why i've come to the conclusion that you would be...best suited to provide safety until I find out who it is. He's got everything planned out and could potentially come back and put a bullet in my head if he knows I'm looking for him. I don't know about you, I've had a shit life but I'd prefer not to have my brains splattered across the pavement. So whaddaya say Sundance?"

Lucas squints at her in confusion and suspicion. And he's not saying anything and why is she so nervous?

Rocking back and forth, she tangles her fingers together, looking at the key scratches on the door frame of his apartment.

"I'm gonna call Zay." He says finally and her eyes go wide as he turns to walk back inside to grab the phone.

"No!" She shouts and hauls herself onto his back, causing him to let out a grumbled ' _oouf_ '.

"He knows how to deal with this stuff! Get off me!"

He tries to shake her off but she wraps her arms around his neck to steady herself, crossing her ankles together around his abdomen.

"He'll end up shooting one of us instead." She explains, practically seeing his eye roll. "Now, I like Zay, I do, but if you put him in charge of my safety, I'll be more likely to die than if I were to protect myself." She stops for a minute. "Plus, you're more..fit, therefor I feel safer around you. Double plus, I can actually stand being around you for more than five minutes without wanting to put my head through a wall. So, I've decided you're best for the job. You don't have a choice in this, is what I'm getting at."

She can feel him stiffen beneath her and this is not the time to tell him he smells like mint and axe shampoo. And that his hair is damp, probably just out of the shower. Sweat pants look good on hi- ok hands wrap around her thighs to steady her even though she has a pretty tight grip and turns his head slightly with an amused smirk.

"Did you just call me attractive?"

"Is that seriously all you got from that? I mean, yes, no, I said you're fit." She emphasizes on the word, "It's not the same thing."

"It is in England."

"Are we in fucking England, Huckleberry?"

"You're trying to flirt with me." He confirms with a chuckle before turning towards the couch and dropping her on it.

Her heart picks up and she licks her lips, sitting up straight and fixing her hair. "Absolutely not. Me and you? I-I-I can't fathom it."

He cocks his head, brows raised. "Really? You c-c-can't?"

"Someone needs to pop your ego bubble, it's getting too big." She notes, turning away from him.

And then he's sitting down beside her and the playfulness is gone. Oh no.

No no, seriousness was not her forte. Yeah, she acts confident but one time a boy tried to kiss her, she punched him in the nose because she didn't know how to react.

Don't judge you assholes, she was sixteen.

"Mhm. So then..." He starts, turning fully towards her, eyes flicking between hers. "Why did you run out of my apartment that night?"

Her tongue runs along her teeth, how does she answer this without spilling that he made her feel like a teenager again and that she wasn't ready to deal with icky emotions?

"What night?"

Yeah, that's what she went went.

"You know what night, Maya." He snaps.

"Why did you really decide to help me with all this?" She says instead, turning fully towards him to mirror his actions. Yes, deny then switch the topic. Always works.

"I already answered that."

Fuck.

"Not truthfully."

He bites his lip for a moment his gaze drops to her chest. "What exactly is the answer you're looking for?" He teases but her stomach flips because there's something in the way his voice changed and his gaze rises back up to hers. "That...I thoroughly enjoyed seeing you in just a bra?"

Her body jolts, she hopes he misses it because he hasn't looked away yet and her body fills with a warm sensation. Her finger tips are tingling like her body just set off fireworks. "I'm sorry, what?" She clears her throat, leaning back slightly.

He grabs her wrist, pulling her back, "Or that the curves of your body..." His hand runs up her arm to her shoulder, up to her jaw. "Run through my head every time you look at me now?"

His breath is against her lips, his thumb running along her jawline and she ultimately loses her shit.

She came to make sure she doesn't die, not be seduced. She's half convinced Zay's gonna pop out of a closet or some shit with a camera.

"Lucas-"

"Or that I should have kissed you but you ran out before I could?"

How is he even closer than he was before?

"W-w-what?"

His eyes flicker to her lips, "Or that I really want to right now?"

"Lucas." She closes her eyes for a split moment before he pulls away.

"But of course that's not what you wanna hear." He smirks.

"You're an asshole."

"And you're a manipulative bitch sometimes."

"Don't call me a bitch."

"Don't act like one."

what the? No.

She grabs his face in her hands, crashing her lips against his. Without thinking, his hands roughly grab at her hips, pushing her against him.

"Still a bitch?"

"Shut up." He mutters against her lips, backing them up until she's uncomfortably leaning back against the arm of the couch. Her hormones don't give a shit apparently as she props herself back up, leaning back on her elbow, cocking a brow. "That's not a way to talk to a lady, Huckleberry, didn't they teach you that on the farm?"

He slips his hand over her elbow, causing her to fall back onto the couch, hovering over her. "Stop talking." He grunts as he ducks his head into the crease of her neck.

Swallowing a moan, she tilts her head back with a smile, feeling his lips on her skin. "It's easier to just admit you like me."

He stops abruptly, pushing away, placing his hands on either side of her head to hold himself up. "Mama told me never to lie to a lady." He taunts.

What an asshole. But she has no comeback, she just really doesn't wanna stop this and the heat between her legs needs to be taken care of.

She buckles her hips against his, grazing him through his sweatpants. His eyes scrunch closed, letting out a faint groan in the back of his throat.

"Don't start what you can't finish, short stack." He mutters quietly and it almost sounds like a plea rather than a threat.

She opens her mouth to speak when a loud knock comes through the door.

Lucas lets out a frustrated sigh, dropping his head on her shoulder.

"LUCAS IS MAYA THERE?"

He sighs again. "Go away, Zay."

"I NEED TO TALK TO HER, IT'S IMPORTANT!"

He lifts his head, looking down at her in annoyance. "WE'RE A LITTLE BUSY!"

"What could you possibly be doing, you live the most yawn worthy lif- oh." Silence. "Shit, you fucking in there?"

Jaw clenched, Lucas rolls onto his side beside her. "If we're quiet enough, he'll leave."

Is he serious?

Rolling her eyes, she crawls over him towards the door, adjusting her shirt.

"Zay." She says awkwardly as she pulls the door open just enough to see the boy on the other side.

"You better be dying or dead." Lucas mutters from the living room.

Zay scoffs, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms. "Yes, Luke, died twice just on the way over here." He says sarcastically and looks back at Maya. "I found the guy."

This is way too many emotions to deal with in one day. Wincing, she runs a hand through her hair, whipping the door open. "I-um, where? How?"

"We have to wait for him"

"We?" Lucas says from the couch, irritation still evident on his face. She glances back at him, now sitting up, elbows propped up on his thighs, one hand holding his head up.

Zay nods, "Well I cant arrest him with no proof of a crime and Farkle isn't answering to be able to identify him, so you'll have to just talk to him and get your answers." He continues, pushing into the little apartment just as Lucas throws a pillow over his lap, turning a crimson red. "lets go?"

"I'll be there in a minute." He grits through his teeth.

"Wh- oh." He snickers. "You got a boner."

"OUT!"

 **(*)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 - The End**

 **(*)**

"Gimme the binoculars."

"'Should've brought your own."

Maya bits her lip in aggravation. "Shit, you're right, I must of left them in my _other_ purse." She mocks, swiping the binoculars out of Zay's hands. "You know, the ones I keep in emergency every time someone steals my paintings and I have to stalk them down."

"Just _share_ them like civilized adults."

They turn around to Lucas in the back seat, shifting around uncomfortably. She's been listening to them argue about how freakishly tall he was that his knees kept knocking into the drivers seat.

"You don't have to be here." Zay argues while grabbing the binoculars back from the blonde.

Lucas scoffs, leaning his head against the window. "Yeah, you two alone. You'd somehow manage to blow the car up." He grumbles out.

"Lucas has a valid point." There eyes turn to Riley occupying the other seat in the back, smiling in glee.

Zay shakes his head with a smile. "Even at three am, she's the happiest person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." He coo's.

Maya makes a face, snatching the binoculars back, leaving him with a smack on the head. "Keep it in your pants, we're here for me."

"This is my car blonde, and I will gracefully kick you out of it."

Lucas pulls his head off the window, leaning forward in between the couple. "Touch her, I break your fingers."

Zay gaps, turning fully around to face the dirty blond. "I thought we were on the same team here. I'm honestly so hurt right now, don't talk to me."

Lucas shrugs, nonchalant as Riley perks up beside him. "Guys! How have we resulted to fighting? We need to focus on what we came here to do. And that's to spot the guy that supposedly took Maya's painting."

"Not supposedly," Maya responds, looking through the binoculars. It was hard to see anything. They were parked right before the bridge where this guy apparently always hangs around at this time. There wasn't a lot of light on the bridge, it was basically finding a needle in a haystack. "He was the one, I can feel it."

There's more bickering from the backseat but suddenly there's the smallest of silhouettes at the other end of the bridge and she freezes. "Guys, shut up." She rushes out, waving a hand at them, hitting something in the midst of it but she doesn't care. "I think...that's him."

He's approaching them little by little and she can see the blonde hair, the beard, the raggedy clothes. It's him.

Zay's eyes widen, taking the binoculars back to look for himself. "He fits the description, Maya." He confirms, pulling the binoculars down after a moment.

A hand claps on her shoulder. "What are you gonna do?" Riley mutters.

She clenches her teeth. What is she gonna do? What does she think she's gonna do? She didn't stalk the guy to ask him out for a cup of coffee. She's gonna get the answers she's waited weeks for.

Even if it kills her.

"I'm gonna get what I came for." She growls, kicking the passenger side door open with her foot.

"Not by yourself you're not."

Rolling her eyes, she pulls the door back closed, whipping around in her seat. "Now's not the time, Huckleberry."

Lucas raises his brows, careless of her threatening demeanor. "What, you think I'm gonna let you go alone?"

Maya lets out a huff. "That was the plan!" She hollers, Zay sliding further away from her in fear.

They stare at each other, challenging each other.

And then he pops his door open, a taunting smile on his face as he got out of the car.

She's two seconds away from throwing a hissy fit because she knows he's not only doing this to protect her. He wants to address the elephant in the room and now is not the time.

They haven't spoken more than two words to each other since Zay interrupted them and honestly, she was completely fine with pretending nothing happened. Completely fine.

Begrudgingly, she pushes the door back open and steps out, slamming it closed behind her. Zay's yelling incoherently, probably about damaging his precious baby, it goes over her head as soon as she falls into step with HeeHaw.

It's silent when they continue onto the bridge. The winds impact is harsher and her hair is blowing everywhere, almost knocking her off her feet.

But she can feel the tension and she knows it's coming.

 _Don't do it._

She hears him take a large intake of breath.

 **Don't do it**.

"Are we gonna talk about what happened?"

He did it.

Brushing the hair out of her face, she sighs. He's the only one besides Riley that's able to trigger such feelings out of her. All her life, people were in and out and she was perfectly content with that. She couldn't care less and god it was the best feeling, not caring.

She takes a quick glance at his side profile as he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. And then this asshole strolls into her life and refuses to leave and now she's attached. He's like a puppy, even the meanest people turn into a puddle of mush in front of a puppy and she fucking hates it and how he affects her just by a _look._ It's pathetic, she's a disgrace to herself.

She turns her head back, the mystery man coming into view. Her stomach sinks, her heart picking up.

But that's the thing. Answers came first. It's what she needed to do from the start. He just happened to come along for the journey, but this was always her number one priority. She got sidetracked and kind of slacked off with the investigation because she was getting too comfortable. She wanted, hoped, they wouldn't find the guy right away just so she'd have an excuse to be around him.

And now she's finally here, in the moment and she can see the guy. He was so close and she was suddenly filled were paranoia and fear. Who knows what'll happen when she approaches him?

Pulling her hair behind her ear, she clears her throat, stopping in her tracks. Lucas stops after her, brows furrowed. "I'm about to approach the man who started all this and you wanna talk about our relationship status?" It comes out softer than it should have. It was supposed to show her anger and confusion and the fucking nerve he had to bring this shit up when she's already scared shitless enough for another reason.

Lucas lets out a dry laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Are you serious? When do you wanna talk about it, Maya? Because if I left it up to you, we'd be here forever." He hisses, bubbling with rage and it makes her angrier. "You can't keep pushing people away because it's convenient at the time! You're hurting yourself and the people around you, can't you _see that_?"

She wants to tell him. He deserves to know and he doesn't deserve to be left in the dark but then her eyes flicker back to the shadowed man who had parked himself against the bridge, leaning lazily against the railing.

Priorities. Even if it kills her.

"I'm gonna go over there." She whispers, she couldn't even look at him. She doesn't wanna see the expression on his face, she couldn't handle it. "So, you can either accept that, or you can freely leave. No one's stopping you."

Lucas takes a step back with a blank expression. He stands there for a few moments and then he turns around.

And then he starts walking away.

She closes her eyes, sucking up all the feelings ready to disobey her and pour out before walking in the opposite direction.

The wind swooshes harder and her cheeks hurt but she's so close and she's finally getting her answers.

" **HEY**!" She hollers as loud and intimidating as she can until her throat is stinging.

The man snaps his head in her direction in astonishment.

She quickens her pace to become face to face with the guy to blame for everything and she's more confused and disoriented than she is angry.

"Do I know you?" The man asks, his voice is deep and edgy. It scares the living hell out of her.

She hesitates and then sputters out, "Who are you?"

The man opens his mouth but shuts it sharply, his face scrunched. That came out wrong, fuck, now she looks like a nutcase. "You came to me?" He says slowly.

He's towering over her, at least a foot taller than Lucas. "Why did you break into the studio I work at? How do you know me? How- How..." Her voice cracks and fuck, fuck, fuck, she's gonna cry. "Why did you leave me to _die_? What...what did I do to you to make you do that?"

The man's eyes widen.

And then he laughs.

All her feelings disappear when she's starring at him lifelessly, laughing at her.

"Hey lady, look." He starts, trying to control himself. "I didn't steal jack shit. Some random pulled up, told me he'd give me a hundred bucks to give a painting to some Farkle guy on Broadview Street. I have no idea what you're on about, but by the looks of it, you may wanna look into therapy."

She shakes her head, trying to process everything. What the hell was going on? How many hands have been on her painting since it was stolen? She's going in circles and she's getting nowhere.

Balling her fists in her hands, she's determined to get her answers. "Some random?"

The man flails his arms, "I don't know who the guy was, if that's what you're asking."

"You said he pulled up. In a car?"

He sighs. "Yeah, a car. Are you done, detective?" He asks, arrogantly.

"What kind of car?" She pushes.

"I don't know. Mustang. Purple. Had a hood on, so I couldn't see his face."

Her heart stops.

 _"Charlie and I can come down! He got a promotion and bought a Mustang in the cutest color!"_

 _"You weren't supposed to be here!"_

 _"I'm sorry, Maya"_

 _"He's been acting really strange."_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"He asked me to elope with him. Like pack up, leave everything in our review mirrors, elope. Crazy right?"_

Charlie.

Her phone starts ringing, she flinches.

The man looks down. "You should take that, I'm gonna go." He says swiftly, giving her a half assed wave and then rolls his eyes. Then he's gone.

And her phone is still ringing.

Absentmindedly, she fishes for it, padding down her pockets and pulls it out.

 **Farkle**.

She stares at it lifelessly. Her head was spinning and she felt fatigue. She doesn't even- oh god, Riley.

Grabbing the railing with her free hand, she lets out a weird noise she couldn't identify, her knees wobbling.

Slowly, she crouches on the sidewalk, taking timed breaths.

 _In. Out. In. Out._

Her phones still ringing, bringing on a headache. She answers it. "Yeah."

"Maya! It's Farkle. It took hours upon hours, but I cleared the image on the video. The scorpion tattoo..."

She's half listen, looking out to the river under her, clutching the railing like her lifeline. "Yeah."

"And then I remembered that Charlie got that tattoo a little over a month ago, he was telling me about it. Maya, It's Charlie."

"Yeah." She repeats, her voice monotone. "I know."

And then she hangs up.

What...

She doesn't even...

She sits back fully against the railing, wiping at her damp cheeks. Her vision blurs through the tears. Her hearts on fire, her bones hurt, her head is banging, she can't _think._

Running an arm over her nose, she sniffles. She wanted the answers, she got them. _You're stronger than this, get up. You searched for it and you found it, don't be weak now._

 _ **Get up and deal with the consequences.**_

Tightening her hand around the railing, she pulls herself up and starts walking down the bridge towards the car.

There's a figure leaning against the railing near the end of the bridge, their head was ducked, hands in their pockets.

Her face drops.

He waited.

She runs her hands over her face, fresh tears rushing out. "Lucas." She mutters pathetically.

He looks up from the ground. As soon as he notices her, he pushes himself off the railing towards her.

She cries harder.

He hugs her tighter.

And she tells him everything the man said on the bridge because she's not sure she has the balls to tell anyone else.

Anyone else meaning Riley.

"I don't know what to do." She whispers into his chest, his chin on the top of her head.

"The truth is always the best way to go, Maya."

God, he sounds like Farkle.

 **(*)**

"Charlie doesn't have a tattoo." Riley's voice rips through the air, defensive and disbelieving.

They stayed on the bridge for another ten minutes before she could work up the nerve to go back to the car. She knew she had to tell her, she was gonna ask as soon as they got back. She couldn't lie to her Peaches.

But this was gonna kill her, it was gonna kill both of them.

May takes a breath, closing her eyes. "He does, Riles. Farkle called me when I was on my way back and told me Charlie told him he got it over a month ago. Around the time someone broke into the store." She explains as gently and painlessly as she can.

She can see the brunette failing to keep herself together, eyes glistening with tears. She kept shaking her head, she didn't wanna believe it, she was trying to hold on to any hope she had left. The sight would make her cry too but her face was numb already and her eyes are heavy. She knows her best friend, she knows she's gonna break.

As soon as the brunette's shoulders start to shake, Maya runs towards her.

"He told me he was on a business trip. No. He was on a business trip, Maya!" Riley voice drops as Maya grasps her from behind, just in time. Riley falls against her and Maya uses all the strength she has left to hold her best friend up.

The brunette is shaking so hard, it vibrates through her own body, but she couldn't hold them both up, she barely had enough strength to hold herself up. "No, it's not true, he w-wouldn't...Charlie would never do that." She stutters, shaking her head rapidly.

Slowly, she drops them to the ground, pulling the girl against her chest. She squeezes her eyes shut again, leaning her head against Riley's shoulder as she hiccuped back more tears. "Riles, I'm so sorry."

Quiet sobs were the only thing to be heard along the darkened road. She can hear a door shut, Lucas and Zay leaving them alone.

Maya pulls back slightly, being brought back by Riley's hand on her arms. "Don't. Just..." She turns around to face the blonde, kneeling in front of her, wiping her tears away, "Don't let go, please."

"I'm not gonna let go, Peaches."

"I'm so sorry." Riley whimpers, grabbing the blondes face in her hands. "I-I didn't know, I-"

Maya almost laughs because Riley's fiance almost kills her and _Riley'_ s sorry? She shakes her head, grabbing Riley's face in her own hands, mirroring her best friend. "You do _not_ need to be sorry about this. It's _not_ your fault, and I'm _fine_." She assures but Riley's not listening, she's starring intently but her mind is in the clouds.

The one thing she didn't want to happen was for Riley to put the blame on herself for this.

"I should have known, I should have paid attention. He'd been acting different ever since we argued about eloping." She stops to wipe her nose on her sleeve, sniffling back more tears. "I told him I wasn't gonna leave everything behind, not with my family and you finally getting your big break. He...must have tried to sabotage the studio so you-"

"It doesn't matter." Maya interrupts her.

"I'm sorry." The brunette croaks.

Maya clenches her jaw, tightening her hands around the girls face. "Riley. Stop apologizing. It's not your fault. Now c'mon, we need to hurry up. I told Lucas what happened, we have limited time before they do something they're gonna regret."

 **(*)**

Looking out the window, she keeps her leg shaking rapidly because it's the only motion that's keeping her from breaking shit or crying. Again. Lucas hadn't spoken a word since they got back in the car and she doesn't know if she misses the bickering or needs the quiet to think. And she should be trying to relax until they get there because there's nothing she can do sitting here but it infuriates her that she was useless, she couldn't help Riley stuck in a car like this.

She's pulled out of her thoughts when a hand covers her own over her thigh. She looks down at Lucas's hand then up at him. He doesn't take his eyes off the road and she knows it's not a romantic gesture, its a calming method, but she can't find the words to thank him. And she doesn't need to, he knows, he understands.

It takes them an impressive twenty five minutes from an original hour drive, she knows, she counts the minutes until she's shoving the passenger door open to get into the building. After getting back in the car, they stopped off at Lucas's so he could grab a few things- she also grabbed a couple things, but he doesn't know yet. So he decided to take his own car and she knew she could pressure him to go over the speed limit, something she couldn't do with Zay since he's a cop. She opted with Huckleberry.

And that's why she's stalking into the building while murderous thoughts are flashing through her mind.

Pulling her hand bag over her shoulder, she jabs at the elevator button but she's livid and the minute and a half it would take for the elevator to get to the lobby is too long. Surprisingly, Lucas keeps up, jogging up six flights of stairs right behind her. She pulls the staircase door open and stalks down the hall.

She pauses at the end of the hall.

And then she turns to Lucas, because what the fuck was Zay doing at Riley's door and how the fuck did he get here before them?

She glances back at Zay who had one hand on the holster of his gun and the other signaling to be quiet. Riley stood behind him, eyes on the floor. Fuck that. She storms down the hall to towards him, pulling out the wrench she'd stolen under Lucas's sink and darts towards the door.

Charlie has another thing coming tonight. No one fucks with her art and then makes her best friend cry in her arms.

"Where did you even- Maya, no." She hears Lucas's steady voice behind her, and then she's in the air, Lucas's arms around her waist, hoisting her off the ground. "Let me go or you'll go in the ground with him, Huckleberry." She growls, kicking her feet out in an attempt to be released.

Zay waits until she's secure in the taller boy's arms before scraping his knuckles against the door. He then steps back, hand back on his gun.

The hall falls silent again until faint footsteps come from inside the apartment. And then the doors open and Charlie's face flashes from curious, to confusion, to pure horror. In a rage, he turns to shut it just as Zay wedges his foot in the door.

"You must be charlie." Lucas speaks first, the boy's eyes shifting from the blonde, up to his tall figure.

Charlie's mouth opens and closes rapidly, taken notice in the gun pointed in his direction.

Zay raises a brow, cocking the gun.

Charlie raises his hands, stumbling back. "W-w-wait, okay. Okay. Let me explain." He rushes out. "We were supposed to move away, out of this shit city. We talked about it a few times and she was totally on board. But then she changed her mind because Maya was doing well and she refused to leave her behind. All i wanted to do was take the paintings so she'd fall back and Riley and I could leave. I didn't expect her to be there and then I fell into the pipe in the back because I heard someone come in and the room started to fog up. I honestly didn't know, I'm truly sorry!"

"Lucas, put me down. I can't threaten people when my feet are barely touching the floor." Maya grits through her teeth, within a few seconds she feels her feet hit the ground and she dusts her off.

"Hey, Zay..." Lucas says slowly, "I think he's resisting arrest, don't you agree?"

Zay crosses his arms over his chest with a content nod. "I do."

And before she even processes what's happening, Lucas is swinging in rage, his fist colliding with Charlie's jaw.

She blinks and he's on the floor in a ball, clutching his face.

"That," Lucas breaths out, his chest rising and falling heavily. "Is for leaving her to die." His kicks at the boy's face, causing him to roll onto his other side from the impact. "That's for making them both cry." He spits.

He lunges at him again, Zay jumping in between them. "You're good, you're good. That's enough." He pushes at the taller boy's chest, furthering the distance between them.

She can see his veins pulsing with adrenaline and the sweat tricking down his forehead and she's happy with this. She's never against hot guys punching people, but seeing him do it got her all hot and bothered.

She groans, this was not the time to be having these thoughts.

Zay's kneeling down by the time she gets her focus back, clasping the handcuffs around Charlie's wrists. Dragging him up by his forearms, Zay smirks. "Charlie Gardener, you're under arrest for attempted murder. But before that," He starts, jerking the boy back by the hair, "You're not resisting arrest again are you?"

The boy shakes his head frantically, blood spewing through his teeth and down his chin.

The couple stands back as Zay walks him through the door, but not before slamming his head against the door frame on the way. "Awe, I'm sorry, did that hurt? Would you prefer suffocating in toxic fumes instead? I didn't think so."

"Wait."

She glances behind her as Zay is dragging the boy down the hall, to Riley.

Zay stops, turning around as Riley walks up to them.

"Charlie." She breathes, reaching out to touch his face. "We were supposed to get married in May." She whispers, "We were supposed to have a beautiful family." She runs her thumb along his jaw, his eyes filling with tears.

Maya looks away because she's seen enough people cry today, and she couldn't sit back and watch her best friends relationship end right in front of her eyes.

"But then you hurt my best friend and I realized you're a scumbag who doesn't deserve any of the tears I shed for you." The brunette hisses as her hand raises back and slaps him across the cheek. "Have fun in hell, sweetheart."

How can Charlie ruin her life and she's the only one who hasn't hit him yet?

But that doesn't even matter because she got her answers, and everything's _finally_ gonna be okay. She doesn't have to live in constant fear that he's gonna come back and finish the job. She can go back to work, get her paintings back out there. She can finally really talk to Lucas. She's ready now. He waited after she pushed him away, she needs him. And he needs to know that.

She turns around to grab his attention as someone screams so loud, it shakes her to the core.

"Maya, move!" Lucas pleads, running towards her, his eyes are wide and panicked.

Everything's happening too fast and Riley's pushed her to the ground, hovering over her as shots go off.

Everything's spinning, her head hit smashes against the floor and Riley's scrambling to get off her.

There's yelling down the hall and loud bangs but Riley's screaming, calling Lucas's name and it makes her sit up fast. The hall waves and swooshes but she can see Riley slide down on her knees beside Lucas who had gone limb.

She blinks back the blur, trying to crawl towards the two bodies near her. "Lucas," She whispers. Riley moves aside and she takes in the scene.

There's blood.

There's so much blood.

She falls against him, knees slipping in the mess of red seeping through his shirt. He wasn't moving, why isn't he moving? She places a hand over his hip, trying to keep him from bleeding out more.

What was happening, why is he not moving, what happened, how did he get shot? Why wasn't she paying attention?

Her breath picks up until she's wheezing, struggling to breathe, placing both hands over the bullet wound. No, no, no, no, no, no. This. No. "No, Huckleberry, stay awake. Please, oh god, please don't do this." She whimpers, fully draping her body over his.

Riley's engulfed her in a hug from the side but she's only looking at his face, his closed eyes, his still movements.

"Lucas, baby, please, I didn't even get to tell you how I feel!" She chokes, "You can't leave! I can't- you can't, please! You're not allowed to leave me, please! I didn't get to tell you. Please."

Someone's dragging her away and she kicks and punches but they're not letting go but she tries her hardest because she can't leave him, she's _not_ leaving him. He's not leaving _her_.

"Get off me! Please, just let me go, please, he'll be okay, He's fine, let me go!"

She stops putting up a fight when he's out of sight, a swarm of paramedics crowding around him. People are bumping into her, rushing to get to the scene, people are starring at her with sympathy and guilt.

Two more paramedics push by her but they run in the other direction. She snaps her head back as they kneel down to Charlie, blood splattered against the wall where he was shot, his body sitting upright, leaning against it. His eyes were open but his body was cold and pale.

Oh god what the fuck happened?! Why was she not paying attention?! This was all her fault, if she wasn't so fucking persistent with finding who the robber was, everyone would still be alive. He was be alive.

He saved her life and she couldn't do fucking shit to save his and it wasn't fair.

Hope is for suckers.

Love is for suckers.

She's given up.

 **(*)**

"Do you want something to eat?" Riley says quietly after hours of silence.

Maya looks up before shaking her head.

Riley's plastered on smile falters, glancing at Zay beside her. "Maya, you need to eat. It's been eleven hours."

Standing up, the hospital waiting chair slides back. "I'm not hungry, especially for shitty hospital food." She spits.

Zay stands up after her, throwing an arm out. "She's just looking out for you, knock it off." He says calmly.

And she fucking snaps, pushing at his chest until he stumbles back. "Were you looking after Lucas?! How did he get out of the fucking handcuffs!?"

"MAYA, STOP!" Riley wails and all she see's is red.

Zay takes a deep breath, stepping back. "He was my best friend. Don't think you're the only one going through fucking shit right now."

"Are you guys here for Lucas Friar?"

The three of them stopped, turning to the nurse who had walked through the double doors unnoticed. They nod in sync and the nurse glances down at the chart in her hands. "He's alright."

And the weight lifts off her chest, so much she has to sit back down. Oh god, he was alive. He was _alive._

"He's in critically condition, but he's awake. One person can go in at a time." The nurse tells them, Zay and Maya glancing at each other guiltily.

"You can go." Maya speaks up first because jesus, she was really mean back there and he didn't deserve that at all. She acted on impulse but he handled it well. If it was Riley that got hurt and Zay was the one snapping at her, she would have knocked his damn lights out. This is the least she could do for him.

Zay gives her a small smile, nodding. "It's alright, you go ahead."

She scrambles back up, "No, seriously, he's your best friend. You have every right."

"Maya, just go."

 **(*)**

Despite the nurse telling her he's awake, she's still put off when she walks into the room and he's sitting up. Her nerves are all over the place and she couldn't keep her hands still.

He looked pretty good for someone who got shot in the rib, just a little drained, but he didn't look too upset.

Pulling the door closed, he glances over at her as she walks towards the bed, sitting in the chair beside him.

"Hey, Huckleberry. How you doing?"

He lulls his head to the side to face her, a side smile playing on his lips. "I'm fantastic, thanks for asking."

"Are you-?"

"Gave me morphine for the pain." He reads her mind, finishing the sentence for her.

She lets out a relived smile and tears disrespect her by filling up in her eyes again. She's just...so, so relived.

He stares at her silently with no expression and she thinks maybe he's a little too drugged up but he chuckled after a moment. "Woah." He says enthusiastically. "You know what I just realized?"

A laugh escapes her involuntarily. She's gonna cry for real if she's right about where he's going with this. "What is that?" She soothes.

"Your eyes are the same color as my shirt." He pauses. "I like my shirt."

 _"Whoa. You know what I just realized?" She slurs, her eyes wide. "Your eyes are the same color as my purse." It falls silent, she doesn't notice. "I like my purse."_

 _"Will you stop flirting with me, I'm your EMT, I'm trying to save your life. I don't care if my green eyes match the color of your purse." He dismisses her, taking his arm off the gurney._

She starts full out crying, standing up to sit on the side of his hospital bed, grabbing his hand between hers. "Will you stop flirting with me? I don't care if my blue eyes match the color of your shirt, I'm just glad you're alive." She retaliates.

His thumb runs along her fingers, laughing again. "Y'know why I really decided to help you with all that?"

She swallows hard, releasing his hand to crawl into the bed with him. He moves over slightly, wincing. She apologies, he tells her to shut up.

Sighing, she looks up at the ceiling. "Welp, I've asked you more than enough times, the curiosity is killing me." She jokes. Her face hurt from the permanent smile yet she couldn't stop crying.

He turns his head to look at her. "You were really determined. So full of fire."

Clearing her throat, she keeps her eyes trained on the ceiling. "Yeah?"

He smiles again, grabbing for her hand buried under the blankets between them. "Yeah. And you were stubborn but it was attractive."

She turns to face him, their face's inches apart. "I'm really glad you're okay, Huckleberry."

His eyes drop to her lips then back to her eyes. "I went to the exhibit to see what you were so passionate about, that made you escape a damn hospital like a lunatic. But also because I just wanted to see you again." He explains.

She doesn't say anything and he doesn't continue for at least a few minutes.

Until he speaks up again, "But don't tell Maya I said that, she'd incarcerate me until the only thing left of me was a cowboy hat."

She bursts out laughing, he was so inebriated, she hates to think that's what she was like when she was high off drugs too.

"Luke?"

The couple look up at Zay standing in the door frame awkwardly. Her eyes widen, how long was she in here for?

She sits up slowly, untangling her hand from Lucas's and standing back up. "Sorry, I lost track of time." She mumbles, heading towards the door.

"I see that." Zay smirks.

She stops beside him, grabbing his arm. "We're okay, right? You know I don't blame you, right? In fact, I blamed myself, I'm incredibly sorry for saying those _awful_ words to you." She says honestly.

Zay nods, looking over at Lucas who was talking to himself. "Yeah, no, I totally understand. We're good, don't worry."

She purses her lips. "Are you okay, by the way?" She couldn't imagine having to see your best friend get shot and then shoot the guy who shot him.

They always made jokes about how bad of a cop he was, but being able to see that happen and then act fast and diffuse the situation like that before anyone else got hurt? That's a great cop.

He runs a hand over his head with a bitter laugh. "Department's making me go to therapy for a couple months, but I'll be fine. It's my job, I signed up for it."

She smiles back at him and starts to walk out of the room, catching bits of their conversation as she walks back to the waiting room.

"Hey buddy, how you feelin'?"

 **(*)**

"Oh god, turn it off, that's so embarrassing." Lucas groans, rolling his eyes as Maya slaps his shoulder in a laughing fit.

"God bless Zay for recording you, I hadn't thought of it." She says through a laugh, grabbing the phone back from him, pressing rewind.

"It's illegal to video tape someone without their permission." He complains, "Especially on highly medicated drugs."

He goes to get up from the couch just as she drags him back down. "The doctor told you to you shouldn't be up and walking around with your stiches."

He raises his brows in amusement. "You mean like how I told you you need to be examined before you ran out of the hospital butt naked?"

She licks her lips, shaking her head. "Not the same thing, you have nothing to do today. So, stay."

Lucas scoffs, slapping her hands away. "I'm not a _dog_ , Maya. I'm a grown man, If I want orange juice, I'm gonna get orange juice." He says sternly, attempting to sit up.

And then sits right back down, eyes scrunched shut in pain. "Apparently I cannot."

Sighing, she stands up. "I'll get it, you idiot."

When she comes back with a glass, she places it on the table, then turns to him.

He gives her a look, "Okay, what's up?"

"What?" She says innocently.

"You've been different since I got out of the hospital, so what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're seriously gonna do this?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Just tell me."

"No."

"Oh my god, you're annoying, you know that?"

She crosses her arms over her chest. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"This. I don't wanna tell you."

"So there's something wrong then." He confirms.

"i just," She gets off the couch, pacing back and forth in his living room. And really, she's been going back and forth about it for the last week since he's been out. She's been here for six days to make sure he was okay, and so when she wakes up from the nightmare, she can walk into the other room to make sure he's okay. But he hasn't mentioned what he said at the hospital and it's bugging her because he always wants to talk about feelings and shit _all the time_. Yet, when he says the things that means the most and that changes everything, he acts like _nothing happened_?

"Maya." He says to stop her pacing. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"

She stops, turning to him, fingers laced together. "Do you remember what you said to me at the hospital?"

He draws a blank, shaking his head slowly. "No, why? Oh god, what did I say?"

"No! It's nothing bad, just...you told me I was full of fire. And determined."

His mouth opens, the tips of his ears turning pink. "Uh...oh." He stutters, "I mean, okay."

She stays standing. "Did you mean it?"

He lowers his head for a moment and then stands up (kind of, it was a struggle), crossing over to her. "Are you asking if I just said it because I was high as a kite?"

Well when he puts it that way, she sounds like a wimp.

"I don't know if you're familiar with drugs, shortstake, but when you're on them, you really don't give a fuck. Which means you usually blurt out whatever on your mind." He jokes. "And if you're still subtly asking if I like you, you're honestly the most dense person I've ever met."

She huffs. "Excuse me?""

He chuckles, "Do you think I would let you practically take over my apartment and clutter it with video tapes if I didn't like you? Or get my best friend to steal them for you when I barely knew you? Drive you hours away to Farkle's because you needed answers? Constantly pester you about your injuries because I wanted to make sure you were okay?" He rants, "Or if that's not enough, we made out on _this very couch_. But yes, Maya, I _hate your guts_." He rolls his eyes.

She's getting all those teenage girly feelings again but...she likes it. She _loves_ it. She loves _him_.

"This is the part where you're supposed to kiss me."

And then his lips are on hers and his hands are on her waist, pulling her to him.

She wraps her arms around his neck, falling into him before he lets out a hiss. She pulls away, looking down. "Shit, are you okay?"

He lifts his shirt up in the slightest to look at the stitches. Then he looks back up at her with a smirk. "I don't care if I rip my stitches, we're having sex. Like now."

Her eyes widen, "What a romantic. Have you ever read a romance novel? You don't just declare sex, it's supposed to be spontaneous and ho-" His lips crash back into hers, she inhales sharply, which he takes as an advantage to slip his tongue in. She flinches as his hands slide from her waist, down her ass to her thighs before lifting her up.

She wraps her arms back around his neck, playing with the nap of hair, legs securely around his waist.

He walks them over to the kitchen counter, dropping her on it, wedging himself between her thighs. She tugs at his hair and pulls away to catch her breath.

And then it slips out.

"I love you."

She expects shock, confusion, denial. Instead, he laughs, gripping her thighs and pulling her closer.

"I know that, Shortstack. You're the dense one, not me."

She changes her mind, she hates him.

"Don't worry, one day you'll be Mrs. EMT."

"Oh for fuck sakes. Let it go."

 **(*)**

7 years later, he's right.

"Maya! Where's my freakin' bouquet?"

Maya smiles into the mirror, Riley coming into view behind her, the baby bump clear through the baby blue bridesmaids dress.

"Everyone always says, oh children are a blessing, have some, have some now." The brunette rants, livid. "What they don't tell you is you sweat like a pig, I can fill the pool in the backyard, can you see any pit stains?"

Maya turns around, tilting her head. "Nope, you're good."

Riley nods, placing a hand on the small of her back before sitting down in the chair beside the mirror. "So," A smug smile reaches her face. "Today's the day. Always thought I'd get married first, I'm not bitter though." She jokes. "Seriously though, cold feet?"

She shakes her head. "No, I'm content, I'm ready. It's what I want."

"Good because Zay told me Lucas is sweating nearly as bad as I am. You couldn't be normal and get married in an air conditioned church? You had to pick my backyard."

Before she could reply, Lucas and Zay stumble into the room.

"Baby, let's go, it's time." Zay informs the girls and Riley rolls her eyes.

"Help me up then."

When the two walk out of the room, Maya walks towards the window, starring down at the small crowd of people rising. Farkle's standing at the alter as Smackle walks down the aisle first. The look on his face...that's what she hopes for today. That kind of love.

Hands wrap around her waist and Lucas buries his head in her neck. "You're not supposed to see me in my dress before the wedding." She scolds him.

He kisses her neck and then pulls away. "We're also supposed to be exchanging rings, but we're not following that rule either." He points out, holding his hand up where he'd tattled a ring band on his wedding finger.

She looks down at her own tattoo and her lip quivers.

Lucas pauses, "What, are you crying? Why are you crying?" He panics, grabbing her face in his hands.

"I'm really happy." She sobs.

He closes his eyes, letting out a sigh of relieve. "You drive me crazy." He whispers.

That makes her cry harder.

He laughs and pecks her lips. "C'mon, we're gonna be late to our own wedding."

 **FIN**

 **(*)**

 **So, it's finished and I'm a little sad. Thank you for reading this and reviewing, favoriting, alerting and just sticking with me. Love you guys x**


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